


Black Ice

by plaguedbynargles



Category: Frozen (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, I don't know how to tag this, Loki Feels, Magic, Post Thor, Romance, Slow Build, Tragedy, elki, post frozen, reluctant romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 74,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguedbynargles/pseuds/plaguedbynargles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the first anniversary of Elsa's coronation, and the queen is, at best, unenthusiastic. That is, until a mysterious prince in green catches her eye across the ballroom.</p><p>By then, she is simply unimpressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I usually write for the Sherlock fandom so this will be a different exercise. Rating may change. This is post Thor and post Frozen, lovelies. Feedback is much appreciated!

           “Elsa come _on_! I need that!”

              The white haired queen giggled in a voice like bells from where she sat above Anna. The sisters were, once again, goofing off before an important event and Elsa had frozen the redhead’s brooch in a cube of ice. The queen herself smiled cheekily down at her sister as she drummed her fingers on the new sculpture, swinging her feet off the makeshift tower of ice she had created in haste to escape Anna.

              “No fair, Elsa! You know I don’t have any powers!”

              Elsa shrugged, “Not my problem.”

              Anna narrowed her eyes, “Oh, when I get up there…”

              “All you have to do to get it back is take back what you said about my new shoes,” Elsa offered, tongue in cheek.

              “Never,” the younger sister refused defiantly, “They’re ugly and you know it!”

              Elsa pretended to examine her nails, “Hm. Looks like you won’t be getting your brooch back, then.”

              “That’s it! I am coming up there!” Anna proclaimed as she started to climb the tower of ice, huffing and puffing with exaggerated effort. Attempted would have been a better word—her hands kept slipping and her slippered feet weren’t able to find any grip whatsoever on the cold, wet surface.

              The queen laughed, “There’s a nice foothold to your left!” she hollered down to her sister.

              “Thanks for the tip!” Anna shouted back sarcastically.

              A muffled knock at the large, wooden door made both of the sisters freeze and turn their heads, braids swinging.

              “Who is it?” Elsa called regally, suddenly all business.

              “Your majesty,” a gruff voice answered, “we are opening the doors to the palace in ten minutes.”

              The queen grimaced to herself as she sent the guard off with a polite “Alright! Thank you!” She quickly started shrinking the structure she sat on until she was able to hop off easily, now face to face with a smirking Anna. The redhead raised an eyebrow expectantly and held out her hand for the stolen brooch.

              Elsa rolled her eyes, faking a heavy sigh as she handed the stolen item, still cold from the ice it had been inside a moment ago, into her sister’s palm.

              “You know, this is a party for _you_ ,” Anna said pointedly, not paying attention as she crookedly fastened the brooch at her neck. It gleamed emerald in the dimmed winter light, shining in from one of the large, almost cathedral like windows on the wall to their left.

              Elsa rolled her eyes once more, intending the gesture at first to mask her discomfort, then allowing a worried frown to darken her expression slightly, remembering that hiding emotions was what had made her first coronation so unpleasant in the first place. As the anniversary of that event, tonight was already bringing back unpleasant memories of guilt, accusations, and, above all, isolation.

              _Tonight won’t be like that_ , the queen attempted to reassure herself. Yes, she had to think positively. But what if people decided they didn’t like her powers anymore? What if the same things happened as before? What if Anna met another _Hans_? And if the Duke of Weselton showed up she’d have to explain her increasingly forceful refusals to his trade proposals, and-

              “ _Elsaaaaa_ ,” Anna groaned, bringing Elsa out of her mental tirade, “Did you hear anything I just said?” The queen blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it.

              “Uh, no, well, I…” the usually articulate queen was stumbling over her words, now worried that she’d upset _Anna_ as well-

              “ _Elsa!”_

              The queen blinked a few times more, now focusing all her attention on her sister.

              “…you’re really worried, aren’t you?” Anna said softly, studying Elsa. The elder girl stared at the intricate carpeting as she nodded.

              “Elsa, _hey_ ,” the redhead took hold of her sister’s shoulders, turning her so they were directly facing one another, “It’s not _going_ to be like _last time_. That party sucked. You’ve done a great job your first year, and you’re only gonna get better! Plus, this year we have Kristoff, and Olaf, and-”

              “What if they remember?” Elsa interrupted quietly, still looking at the floor.

              “Duh! Of course they’ll remember. But they’ll see you now and they’ll see how much more awesome you are now!” The queen finally raised her eyes to meet her sister’s and saw that she was beaming.

              Elsa couldn’t resist a small smile. She was already feeling better, and a few snowflakes fluttered around her fingertips as she felt a boost of confidence.

              “You’re right,” she acknowledged.

              “You bet your royal butt I am! Now let’s finish getting ready! Who knows? Maybe you’ll find yourself a hot southern king to help you celebrate!” Anna winked mischievously, and Elsa snorted, following her sister out the door.

              “The only thing I need to help me celebrate is some marzipan chocolates,” the queen joked snidely.

              Anna laughed, “Amen to that. At least the chocolates won’t leave halfway through the party to talk to their reindeer.”

              “I’m certain Sven _actually_ has quite a way with words,” Elsa joked.

              Anna raised her arm in an elaborate gesture as she responded, “ _Quoth the raven, where are my carrots?”_

Elsa gave a rather un-queenly snort, covering her mouth as they walked and dissolved into giggles. Servants bustling past barely paid the still-not-dressed royals any notice, rushing to put the last preparations in place for the party. Footsteps were muffled by carpet over the wood flooring, making the whole situation seem less of a panicked one than it really was. At this point, the castle staff was used to last minute preparations. At least, all except for one.

              “M’lady!” a shrill voice broke the girls out of their laughing fit. Both pairs of eyes soon were focused on a portly woman running towards them as quick as her short legs would carry her. She was brown haired, rosy cheeked, and flustered, as usual, over Elsa’s current state.

              Anna concealed a smirk as she gave the queen a semi-sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

              “Mia!” Elsa greeted pleasantly. She offered a sheepish grin in apology for the stress she had likely caused her handmaiden. Though, admittedly, this _did_ happen every time Arendelle had an important event.

              “My queen,” Mia hastily curtsied before her hand closed like an iron cuff around Elsa’s wrist, dragging her along beside her in a mad dash to her chambers, “The _anniversary of your coronation._ Of _all things!_ This ball is of tip top importance, it is the defining moment of your first year as queen, it is the epitome of sophistication…”

              Elsa tuned out for a minute, pausing to marvel at the strange fact that listening to this woman was actually calming her frayed nerves. She turned back as best she could to give Anna a quick ‘see you later’ glance. The redhead stuck out her tongue and grinned before spinning on her heel, losing her balance, and continuing down a few doors before she reached her own. Typical.

              “…and should a _suitor_ have arrived early, my queen, oh, then we’d be in a real pickle, now wouldn’t we? And that sister of yours is only encouraging this foolishness! It’s her I blame. And that snowman…”

              “Olaf?” Elsa asked incredulously as Mia threw the door to the queen’s chambers open with an air of grandeur.

              The handmaiden sighed, “Yes, dear, Olaf,” she began throwing articles of clothing at the queen unceremoniously, and Elsa caught each one without skipping a beat.

              As ruler of Arendelle, she _could_ have had seven, or seventeen, maidens attending to her every need, though Elsa never failed in insisting that she only wanted Mia. There was a sort of pleasantness that came with their banter. Other handmaidens didn’t listen to her insistence that she could dress herself…Mia did. In fact, the woman most likely didn’t mind. She knew Elsa was capable of cleaning up nicely—the queen just needed to be shepherded into getting dressed.

              “Oh, your majesty,” Mia beamed at Elsa, who was now examining her figure in the mirror, “You look stunning, as always. You and Anna will be in the eyes and hearts of many, tonight.”

              “Hopefully,” the queen replied demurely, thinking of Hans, “only in the eyes of the worthy, this time around.”

              “Now, now,” the handmaiden shook a scolding finger at Elsa, “Be careful. Who determines what is worthy?”

              The queen gave a small smile. Their conversations were certainly outside of the boundaries most queens had with their maidens, though she couldn’t say she wanted it any other way.

              “You’re right, as usual,” Elsa conceded with a soft smile, “Will you please assist me with my hair?”

              “Of course, love,” Mia started her handiwork, “Once I’m finished with you, no suitors will deny you a dance!”

              Elsa doubted they would regardless of how she looked, but she kept this more sinister thought to herself, along with the fact that the thought of dancing with strangers still made her feel a bit sick. Parties, if she was completely honest with herself, would never really be her forte. There were too many faked smiles, too many forced conversations, too many people who she didn’t want to pretend to like. She would much rather spend a night with the citizens of Arendelle. Not royals from far and wide, come to whisper and gape at the so called ‘Ice Queen’.

              _Perspective_ , she reminded herself.

              It was one night. She had been through so much worse. And as Anna said, there may be someone worth meeting there.

              As Mia finished working with her hair, the queen straightened her shoulders, gave her reflection one last glance over, and strolled towards her door.

 

***

              Loki was falling.

              He wasn’t sure how long he had been tumbling through nothingness, but he didn’t particularly care. Odin hadn’t even cared that he’d let go. Thor didn’t care. _None_ of them cared. His so called ‘father’ had last spoken to him that, no, he was not capable. He was not capable, according to Odin, of doing good for him, or the kingdom, or anyone for that matter.

              After Thor and Odin, along with the bifrost, had faded from his sight, Loki had closed his eyes, not particularly caring where he was headed, only that it was far, far away.

              _Somewhere harsh. Somewhere cold. Somewhere unforgiving._ Yes. That was what he needed. What he needed was to have cold bite into his skin, hurting him so that he didn’t have to feel anymore. He was so, so sick of feeling.

              Empty air rushed past him and for a brief moment, the God of Mischief wondered if this was how he was destined to spend eternity. Tumbling through space and time, cursed to an existence of nothingness. Perhaps that was what he deserved. If he was the monster they all thought him, Asgardians all over would rejoice at his absence. They would all sleep easier.

              They were all such _fools_. He was the rightful king; how could they not see? Loki was frustrated to find he could not even feel the familiar heat of anger in his stomach as he tumbled through nothingness. All he felt was a hatred so deep it was embedding itself in fact, substituting memories of laughing with Thor as children with the newly discovered idea that he had been miserable all along. He had always been a misfit, right?

              Loki felt a brief pressure coupled with heat around him, then nothing again. Only this time… there was something else there. It was a slight wetness against his skin. Barely there, but still definitely there, coupled with the wind whipping past him.

              _Wind._

              It was clear that there was definitely resistance to him coming from his left, which meant…which meant he wasn’t between worlds anymore. The dampness must have been clouds.

              Loki mentally uttered a string of profanities so vulgar he was sure it would have made his mother faint.

              Curse it. Curse everything. He was going to be trapped. If he was crash landing anywhere other than Asgard, which was physically impossible, given the location of the bifrost when he had fallen off, he would likely be stuck there a very long time. And it wasn’t as though Thor or Odin was going to rescue him.

              What if he landed on Jotunheim? He was surely dead. For the love of the Allfather, he was certainly dead almost anywhere he landed. Midgard was perhaps the only realm with even a _possibility_ of safety, and that wasn’t much. As weak as Midgardians were, their entire planet revolved around a monetary system very difficult to break into. That, and most of their world was nearly covered with oceans so deep that they gave Asgard’s a run for their money. Who knew what lurked beneath those depths? His earlier visits had been _planned_ , and they had still been horrible. Not only that; he had heard a legend in which an interstellar traveler crash landed in a Midgardian desert, and upon searching for assistance was captured and held captive to be dissected by so called ‘officials’.

              Yes, Midgard was not a world he was hoping for. But really, what was there to hope for? Svartalfheim? He supposed from there he could eventually find a way back to Asgard, but survival would depend on where he landed, which was completely dependent on luck. The Dark Elves were not a friendly race. Alfheim, perhaps, but even that was not going to be easy. He could tell from the fact that the temperature of the air around him was still low that he was on a cold planet, so at least his wish was granted in that case. But what if he _was_ on Jotunheim? Would they welcome him? Likely not, as they had discarded him from the start. Perhaps he could make a bargain; show that his loyalties were changed. Though that wouldn’t solve the lack of respect they held for him…

              Suddenly, the god’s body collided with something solid. He barely had time to let out an ‘ _oof!’_ before he was falling again. Only this time, the fall lasted fewer than five seconds. His descent was interrupted once again by an obstruction, only this time, it was scratchy and pungent. He could feel wood raking across his skin as he fell through layer after layer of foliage, scrunching his eyes shut so as not to damage them as much as the rest of his body.

              At least it wasn’t Jotunheim. The greenery guaranteed that much.

              After what seemed a century, the scratching stopped and Loki found himself surrounded by what he guessed was snow. He prayed for some sort, any sort, of soft landing as he continued to tumble down a steep slope, rolling over rocks, tree stumps, and Allfather knows what else. Dimly, he wondered if when he finally stopped there would be a trail of blood behind him.

              For a brief (admittedly terrifying) moment, Loki felt himself falling through nothingness again, and his stomach dropped. However, it was mere seconds before he once again hit solid ground, starting to roll again only to slam into something solid back first, finally bringing him to a stop with one last grunt.

              He rolled over onto his stomach, face first into the snow, and groaned. The icy cold of the snow did nothing to numb the pain, as biologically he was predisposed to survive in freezing temperatures. Every inch of his body ached, and scratches large and small, inflicted by the greenery he had fallen through, stung and burned. He truly, at this point, wasn’t eager to discover where exactly he had landed, but the amount of pain in his right arm was worrying, and he wasn’t about to risk attracting wild animals with the smell of his blood. Reluctantly, Loki lifted his head out of the snow, resting his weight on his good arm.

              Hm. This was new.

              There were peculiar cone shaped, needle-covered trees around him on all sides, save for the toppled one that must have stopped his descent. That one had a much thicker trunk, with bark that appeared sturdier and less flaky. With distaste, the god realized that he _reeked_ of an unfamiliar, extremely strong earthy scent. Fantastic. That must have come from falling through the trees, along with the sticky, amber liquid that he was beginning to notice on his hands. If that was in his _hair…_

              The high slope of a mountain was behind him, so he was likely entering a valley of some sort. The air was quite cold compared to Asgard, and a layer of snow about a foot deep covered the ground in a thick white blanket. It was also dark, but not pitch black, so the sun must have just finished setting. When he looked up, he could just make out a single moon, gleaming down on him.

              He must be on Midgard, then. It wasn’t exactly reassuring, given that he had never in his life seen Midgardian land that looked like this. Where was all the noise? Asgard was far more developed than this, and that was far less populated than Midgard. This was sheer wilderness. What if there wasn’t a settlement for miles? He knew basic healing, but that didn’t mean anything with no supplies, and all Asgardian cities had some form of bandages and disinfectant available for injuries. Here he had nothing to work with.

              He heard an ominous howl in the distance, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. That didn’t sound good. Animals smelled better than they saw. His magic would be useless to hide himself.

              Loki risked a glance down at his injured arm, and swore. The wound was deep; he must have gotten it from one of the rocks as he’d rolled down the mountain. That was _definitely_ going to need bandages. He’d barely laid here five minutes, and already it had managed to stain an alarming amount of the snow around it red.

              He was oddly comforted by the sight. His blood was the same color as Thor’s, Sif’s, or that of any other Asgardian. Perhaps he was not so cursed.

              _Then why did they reject you?_ A snide voice spoke up from a corner of his mind.

              Damn it all. He didn’t have time to think about this. It was visibly getting darker and he needed to figure out what he was going to do to stay alive. Obviously snow would account for water, but what he would eat, he had no idea. Then there was the matter of fire and tending his wound and shelter—

              His thoughts were interrupted by a voice several meters to his left, almost making him jump. The god of mischief quickly set an illusion over himself so as to make him invisible, and watched as the figure of a bulky, likely male, Midgardian approached, along with a large horned creature with four legs.

              “ _But Anna’s gonna be mad that you’re so late_ ,” the male said in a strange, almost mocking voice. Was he talking to himself? Just his luck. Loki found the one man in the forest, and he was completely mad.

              “I know, Sven. But she’s just gonna have to deal with it. Lots of surveying to do before we officially start the harvest, tomorrow. And they’re still fixing my sled, so-” the male had changed his tone now to a normal one.

              _“Tonight is your first big party with the royals, though,”_ the voice switched back, and as the two figures drew closer, Loki was able to make out more details of their appearances. The Midgardian was blonde, with short yet voluminous, healthy hair that likely would have been soft to the touch, had it not been soaked with snow. The horned creature was covered in soft fur from head to hoof, and was likely a pet, as it followed the man eagerly without a lead.

              The blonde turned around towards the animal, “Yeah, but ice comes first.”

              Was he actually _talking_ to the creature? Loki fought off a sudden urge to groan at the poor madman’s stupidity. He had mentioned ‘royals’. What did that mean? _Was_ there a settlement, nearby? One with a political structure and proper shelters and medicine? The thought was mouth watering, despite the fact that Midgardian amenities were primitive at best. Anything was better than staying out here and dying.

              Although, if the Midgardian truly _was_ as mad as he acted, this could easily all mean nothing. Royals could simply be referring to a rock collection he kept on his windowsill. Or at the mouth of the cave he lived in. What sort of a place harvested _ice_ , for Allfather’s sake? It wasn’t as though in these temperatures it would be hard to come by.

              “What’s that, Sven? Someone here?”

              Loki was instantly on his toes again (metaphorically—he was still lying down, the hand of his good arm cradling his injured one), ready to run or fight if need be. He still had the illusion to protect him, but animals were tricky.

              The god of mischief held his breath as the creature and his master walked closer and closer to where he lie. He could actually _smell_ the great beast, they were so close, and he realized now how much he had underestimated its size. He almost admired the madman for managing to tame such a dull, lumbering creature.

              The blonde’s forehead scrunched as he examined the disrupted snow that showed where Loki had fallen, rubbing his chin in confusion. He raised his eyebrows a little when his eyes fell on the blood stained snow from the god’s injured arm. Damn. Loki should have hidden that. He bit his lip as they inched closer to where he lie, and the large animal started to sniff about an inch from his face.

              “Sven, there’s nothing there.”

              The animal snorted, almost indignantly.

              “Though, it _is_ weird that there’s no footprints leading away…”

              Loki cursed.

              “C’mon, Sven. I’m sure it’s nothing,” the large man started to walk away, but the animal remained in place, staring directly at an invisible Loki.

              _I’ll make you into a throw rug if you don’t go away,_ the god thought.

              “ _Sven_. Come on. Anna’s already going to kill me. Plus, there’s wolves out tonight. I mean, I’d rather take the wolves over angry Anna, but still. If I get there soon enough, I won’t have to choose.”

              With great reluctance, the animal, or _Sven_ , as the Midgardian had called it, tore his eyes away from Loki and followed his master. The god let out a small breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when they were far away enough, and dropped the illusion.

              Loki decided he was better off following them than staying put. At the very worst, if they didn’t lead him anywhere helpful, he could kill the man and make a meal of his pet. Either way, he would be better off than he was now. It was starting to snow, and darkness was falling rapidly now that clouds had moved in with darker hours of night.

              Stifling a groan as best he could, the god awkwardly got to his feet, cradling his injured arm and experimentally flexing the muscles in it. It hurt, and badly. But, at least he could move it. Shaking the strange needles out of his hair, along with snow, and brushing the rest of himself down hastily, Loki replaced the invisibility illusion once more. Ignoring how drained he felt, and forcing himself to believe that he wasn’t feeling nauseous and dizzy from the amount of pain coursing through his body, he set off following the footprints of the Midgardian madman and his pet.

              Loki followed the trail for what felt like hours, trudging through the deep snow with only his misery for company. After a time, however, the trees mercifully started to thin, and soon enough, he found himself out of the woods, looking down from the side of the mountain.

              Relief flooded his senses as the god’s eyes found a village next to what looked like a bay. Many large ships were docked there, and the city was not nearly as brightly lit as other Midgardian cities he had seen. In fact, from what he observed, this looked to be an extremely primitive settlement. Where were the skyscrapers? He didn’t even see any _roads_ leading to the place. Not to mention the absurd methods of transport the mortals used… he couldn’t remember what they were called. There largest building he could see was a sizeable castle, overlooking the water, but even that was tiny compared to what was custom on Midgard. Just his luck. He lands on Midgard, but without everything that made it useful. He doubted a place with _thatched rooftops_ would have decent medical supplies to patch him up.

              But he was _so_ exhausted. Maybe he could just rest up here, and steal a ship tomorrow. Or, if they were stupid enough, he could proclaim himself a god and demand their service; have them on their knees for him. Though then they probably wouldn’t let him leave…still, the idea wasn’t unappealing.

              It was an idea that required effort and willpower, though, both of which he was quickly running out of. And so, Loki half walked half stumbled his way down the rest of the mountain, somehow managing to further soak himself through with snow, and finally found himself level with the city. Without another thought, he shook some of the snow out of his hair and proceeded to enter the streets.

              Now that he was closer, he supposed the buildings weren’t _as_ tiny as he’d initially thought—though they were still dollhouses compared to Asgardian standard. The streets were cobblestoned, and littered with what looked like flower petals. Strange, given the time of year, though he supposed he didn’t know that much about this part of Midgard, anyway. Evidently, there was a sort of celebration taking place, as streamers and other decorations were strung over every available surface, and the sweet scent of food teased his nostrils and made his mouth water. He didn’t particularly care what it was; if he didn’t eat something soon, he’d end up consuming his injured arm.

              “Momma, are we gonna see Elsa?” asked a small child eagerly as he and his mother passed Loki.

              “Not until tomorrow. She’s at the castle tonight with the other kings and queens,” the patient mother replied.

              “Are there lots of princesses there?”

              “Yes, and princes.”

              “Are they pretty?”

              The mother chuckled, “Most of them are very pretty, yes.”

              “I wanna marry a princess!”

              Loki never got to hear the mother’s reply, though that wasn’t the part of the conversation that intrigued him. _Other kings and queens_. So there was a sort of royal convention taking place, then? How cute. It seemed he had a destination, then. He didn’t think it would prove _too_ difficult to pass for royalty. He already was getting glances from a few of the many villagers crowding the streets. Though, admittedly, that could have easily been because he looked so battered.

              Or his clothing. With a sudden pang of realization, the god remembered that he was still in Asgardian clothes. He at least could attempt to fit in. Quiet as a shadow, Loki slipped into the darkness of an alley and, with more effort than it should have taken, managed to disguise himself, imitating the clothing he had seen in the streets, with a slight undertone of wealth. He could always fix it more once he was in the castle.

              After no more than a minute, a Loki wearing dry clothes and hair perfectly in place emerged from the shadows and took a moment to observe the square in front of him, eyes finally settling on a young brunette in a purple silk dress, escorted by a dashing male of similar hair color. Perfect.

              The god, not wanting to waste any more time or energy, briskly strode over to the pair and ignored the male’s suspicious glare as he greeted them.

              “Pardon, are the two of you heading to the castle?”

              The girl smiled invitingly, and the male relaxed slightly, “Sure are! Are you here for Queen Elsa’s coronation anniversary, too?”

              Loki forced a small smile in return, hoping it didn’t seem like a grimace, “Of course. It’s the event of the season, is it not?” His eyes met the man’s.

              The male seemed to decide Loki was safe, and he gave a sideways, toothy smirk, “Ha. Elsa sure doesn’t think so. Rumor is it she hates parties.” The girl elbowed him in the side, frowning.

              “That’s not true,” she said, “Elsa is anything but a killjoy. Just look at the sculptures she made for the festival!” The girl made a wide gesture, and Loki was confused until his eyes fell upon a gleaming, translucent structure about five meters away from them.

              It was _beautiful._ He assumed it must be ice, given the current weather and what the madman had mentioned earlier about ice harvests. The frozen water was thick as his arm in some places, but barely a hair’s width in others. It rose and fell in arcs that created the illusion that an ordinary fountain had been frozen with the snap of a finger, keeping the fluidity of the water perfectly illustrated. He was, he had to admit, impressed. Loki couldn’t say it made sense to him why someone would create a masterpiece that was destined to eventually melt, but it was talented work, all the same.

              “I’ve never seen talent like that,” the god commented, eyes still fixed on the sculpture.

              “Yeah, she’s got all _kinds_ of talent, and making ice sculptures is only one of them,” the man added in, “I’m Eugene, and this is Rapunzel, by the way.”

              _Doesn’t use their royal titles. He’s a commoner who married rich._

The man stuck out his hand, and Loki stared at it in confusion. He’d never paid much attention to Midgardian customs, and hadn’t the faintest idea what he was supposed to do to complete the gesture. At the risk of offending the man and starting a riot, the god decided it was better to simply do nothing but raise a confused eyebrow.

              After a moment of silence, Rapunzel spoke up, giving him an almost apologetic smile, “Do they not shake hands where you’re from?”

              “Ah, no…” Loki explained awkwardly, “I am not familiar with many of the…customs….”

              Eugene snorted, “Just how far away are you from that they don’t shake hands?” he asked skeptically.

              The god of mischief stared the man straight in the eyes, debating his answer for a moment before finally deciding what to say, “…Asgard. I am prince Loki.”

              “Pleasure to meet you, prince Loki of Asgard!” Rapunzel piped up, “Are you a suitor for her majesty?”

              Loki resisted a grin. The _queen_ was accepting suitors? This was almost too easy.

              “We’ll see what she thinks,” he answered slyly, and Eugene rolled his eyes.

              “Alright, well, good luck with that,” he said, “If you’ll follow us, we can show you the way to the castle.”

              “That would be terrific.”

              

              

              

 

              

 

              

              

              

              


	2. Chapter 2

               Elsa surveyed the scene in front of her, watching as music drifted through the air, skirts twirled, and glasses clinked all around her. It was eerily similar to her first coronation, and yet…she felt as though the air was somehow lighter.

               Perhaps it was the lack of gloves this time around. Now, she didn’t have to worry about the thin layer of ice that formed when she hoisted her glass into the air for a toast. Elsa actually felt happy this time around, despite the fact that she was currently watching Anna tell a very snowy Kristoff off for arriving late.

              “…stupid ice…can’t…” the queen was able to hear only snippets of the conversation over the party. Kristoff looked to be attempting at an explanation, wide eyes pleading with a look similar to that of a wounded animal.

               Elsa smiled to herself, taking a moment to inhale the rich scent of chocolate wafting through the air. Maybe that would cheer her sister up.

               After standing there listening to his pleas, arms crossed, for about a minute, Anna seemed to concede and marched away from him, going back to her place next to the queen. Kristoff followed sheepishly.

               “See any princes you like yet?” the redhead asked, nudging her sister mischievously.

               “Anna…” the queen rolled her eyes.

               “What?” Anna whined, “Just trying to get someone to enjoy the party…” She seemed decidedly less enthusiastic about the celebration than she had earlier that evening.

               “Go and dance,” Elsa murmured sideways, trying to look professional. The younger sister had always been the one who enjoyed parties, and the queen knew that underneath the frown she now wore, Anna was itching to get on the dance floor.

               “You go dance,” Anna retorted, “It’s your party.” Kristoff was pretending he couldn’t hear them, obviously trying his best to look regal.

               Elsa sighed, turning to raise an eyebrow at her sister, “Alright, since it’s my party, I’ll do what I like.” With a smirk, she turned on her heel and marched towards one of the dessert tables, and Anna and Kristoff watched her go. The queen seemed not to notice the way the crowd parted for her, how people’s eyes lit up with intrigue as she passed, some even having the nerve to point.

               Suddenly, it struck Anna that her sister probably did notice. Feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over her, the redhead hopped off the platform they had been standing on, losing her balance only the slightest as she landed, and set off following the queen.

               “Princess Anna…”

               “My lady…”

               “I heard her sister is a witch…”

               Anna discarded most of the statements that flew past her, and simply threw a few bright smiles in the direction of the people who had spoken to her. Except for the last one. If she found out who’d said that, there’d be Hell to pay.

               Finally, after pushing through one last wave of guests, the princess caught up to her sister, who seemed to have found her way out of the crowd not long before her. Elsa’s eyes were roving over a large selection of delicatessens, as though deciding which would serve as a soldier in her army.

              Anna stifled a giggle before tiptoeing up behind her unsuspecting sister and leaning in as closely as she could towards her ear.

               “Boo!”

               Elsa didn’t even flinch, and turned around with a raised eyebrow, while Anna masked her disappointment. Someday she was going to get that to work.

               “You’re going to have to try a little bit harder if you want that to work,” the queen teased.

               “Oh, whatever,” the younger sister rolled her eyes, “It’s the effort that counts.”

               “Whatever you say, little sister.”

               “Hey!” Anna protested, “If I’m ‘little’, how come I could eat a whole plate of those truffles?”

               Elsa laughed, still remembering the look on the chef’s face. Now the kitchen staff made extra for the sisters, so there was enough for everyone else.

               “I ate two plates of them, last night,” the queen said slyly.

               “I’ll eat this whole table right now, I’m so hungry,” Anna responded, proceeding to grab a handful of chocolate. Just as she shoved it in her face, however, a voice sounded from behind them.

               “Anna!”

               The sisters turned to see a short brunette in a purple silk dress waving at them eagerly from a few paces away. She was practically jumping up and down in excitement, seeming not to notice that Anna’s cheeks were still stuffed with food.

               “Rapunzel!” Elsa greeted, waving kindly and starting to walk towards her. The brunette closed the distance between them in no time, hair bouncing up and down as she skipped across the wooden floors.

               “I missed you!” Rapunzel took the queen’s hands in hers, behaving slightly more formally than with Anna, who she proceeded to envelop in a bear hug that the redhead was sure would break her in half.

               “It has been too long, Princess Rapunzel,” Elsa said warmly as the two ended their hug. Anna and Rapunzel had become very fast friends at the first coronation, before the queen’s powers had been revealed. Elsa, however, hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to the princess of Corona before, and they knew little of one another.

               “How’s Eugene? And Pascal?” Anna asked Rapunzel eagerly, still hopping with excitement.

               “They’re great! Pascal didn’t come with us this time, though. The winter was kinda hard on him before…” the princess’s voice trailed off awkwardly.

             “Don’t worry!” Elsa said quickly, “There won’t be any…mishaps this time. See?” she held up a hand for Rapunzel to see, “No gloves.”

               The brunette’s eyes lit up as she watched snowflakes start to hover in the queen’s palm, coupled by an icy glow. Elsa quickly closed her hand again, before anyone could notice, but the light didn’t fade from Rapunzel’s eyes.

               “Elsa—I mean, Queen Elsa! That’s amazing! I knew you could do it, but to see it in person…”

               “…doesn’t compare,” the queen finished for her, “I know. And please, call me Elsa. You and I have far too much in common to not be on friendlier terms.”

               “Okay!” Rapunzel jumped, “Should we go and get some chocolate? I’ve been wanting some all night.”

              “I was just about to say that,” Anna agreed, “Maybe you can help me find Elsa a prince while we’re there.”

               Before Elsa had a chance to groan at her sister, the redhead had taken her and Rapunzel’s hands and led them back towards the table of desserts. It was hard to imagine of deciding on just one thing to eat—the table was stacked almost to eye level with puddings, chocolates spanning in color from white to almost black, and candies of every color under the sun.

               Decisions, decisions…

               Just as Elsa’s fingers finally closed around a small cake with lavender frosting, her eyes lifted to the crowd. For a moment, all seemed well. It could have been a scene from one of the royal paintings, except…

             There was a man emerging from one of the doors leading into the ballroom. He was tall, dark haired, and pale, and he wore clothing of luxurious, dark velvet. It had trimmings of green, with small bits of gold here and there. For a brief, terrifying moment, Elsa thought he looked straight at her. However, it passed, and with lithe movements he closed the door behind him carefully and silently before slinking into the crowd. He was a shadow amongst the pastels and smiling faces occupying most of the room, a ghost unseen by any of them, save the queen.

               Suddenly, Elsa didn’t feel much like eating. That door didn’t lead outdoors. That went to the palace hallways; the hallways that were closed to the visitors.

The queen’s mind raced for some sort of explanation for this, but could find none. She’d never seen the man before in her life. He definitely wasn’t a servant, with how he was dressed. Her mind immediately conjured up an image of a smirking Hans, bringing his sword down in an arc to kill her…

              “Hey! Earth to Elsa!”

              The queen spun to face her sister, who, she now realized, must have been waving her arms to get her attention this entire time. Elsa noticed her mistake too late, and when she frantically brought her eyes back to their original target, it felt like she couldn’t breathe.

              He was gone.

              Everything seemed to slow down for a moment. The queen raked her gaze across the room once, twice, three times but still could not find the prince in green. If he was even a prince at all. He was probably a crook, a bandit; come to kidnap her and rape her sister…

              “Elsa!”

              This time, Anna’s voice caused the queen’s brow to furrow and a scowl to twist her mouth downwards. She turned perhaps a bit too quickly to answer.  

              “What?” Elsa snapped, temper flaring. Rapunzel jumped slightly, looking afraid, but Anna only blinked in response before smirking.

              “What are you staring at so much?” the redhead asked smugly, only irritating Elsa further and increasing her worry.

              “There was a man there, in green. He--”

              “Uh huh, go on,” Anna interrupted, still looking amused.

              “Will you listen? I think he snuck in! He came through that door,” the queen pointed at the entrance in question, voice dropping to a whisper, “We need to tell the guards. Tell them the party’s off. This could be dangerous--”

              “Was he hot?”

              Elsa stared at her sister a moment, unable to comprehend what would constitute an appropriate response. How could she not see how important this was?

              “What does it _matter_ what he looked like? All that matters is that we get the guests out of here before--”

              “How will we catch him if we don’t know what he looks like?” Anna asked, deciding to humor her sister. It was evident to her that Elsa was overreacting.

              “He was tall. I think black hair, fair skinned. He wore green--”

              “Oh!” Rapunzel exclaimed, and two pairs of eyes moved their gaze to her. She glanced at them both, embarrassed to have interrupted the queen, before Elsa motioned for her to continue. “...Eugene and I met a man that looked like that when we were walking to the castle. He liked your ice sculptures. We...showed him the way to the castle…” the princess trailed off, green eyes filling with worry as she watched the queen’s reaction.

              “Did he come in with you?” Elsa demanded, and Rapunzel shook her head. “What about a name? Did he give you his name?”

              “He said he was Prince Loki of Asgard,” she answered with conviction, “He said he came from very far away. He didn’t know how to shake hands…”

              Elsa frowned. That was very strange, indeed. She turned to Anna.

              “Was there a Prince Loki on the guest list?”

              “I don’t think so, but listen, Elsa,” the redhead soothed, “I’m sure this is being blown way out of proportion. He’s probably just a weird foreign guy who doesn’t understand the concept of a front door.”

              “Or an invitation to a royal ball?” the queen pointed out, starting to panic, “He knew he wasn’t on the guest list! That’s why he snuck in! I’ve never heard of Asgard, nor have I heard of a Prince Loki, and I doubt anyone we know has! This is dangerous, Anna, and we need to notify the palace guards, or--”

              “Are you perchance looking for me?” a smooth, icy voice effectively froze Elsa’s tirade. Recognition and, the queen was pleased to see, slight apprehension shone in Rapunzel’s eyes. The same could not be said for her sister, who, from the look on her face, thought something entirely different of the stranger. Elsa spun on her heel, back straightened and gaze steely, to face the crook.

              He was, to her dismay, taller than she’d anticipated, towering a good few inches above her, even with her crown on. His skin was remarkably pale, almost to the point of translucence, and his hair was slicked back in a strange fashion that she wasn’t familiar with. Simplistic, yet elegant clothing of black velvet with green and gold trimmings covered his form. They were similar to what the other guests wore, and yet somehow the queen knew they were obviously of foreign design.

              What really caused her to tilt her chin an extra half inch, however, was not his strange manner of dress or choice of hairstyle. It was the way he carried himself.

              Now, Elsa had never been one for arrogant men. Anna was the one who typically got (or used to get) drawn in by that sort of game. The queen had never had her sister’s patience. She had spent so many years of her life wasting away, isolated from humanity, that she couldn’t imagine throwing her time away on people who clearly didn’t deserve (or want) it. If someone wanted to have any sort of relations with Elsa, they needed to give her exactly what she gave them. No more, no less. It was a fair bargain, she believed, and one that most people like Hans, or the man standing in front of her, usually turned down in a heartbeat.

              His green eyes glimmered with mischief and arrogance as he smirked down at her. Perhaps he wasn’t intending to smirk, but his posture clearly said otherwise. Elsa could barely stop herself from actually sneering at him.

              “And who might you be?” she demanded regally.

              “Begging your pardon, my queen,” he said softly, turning his gaze into one obviously meant to be seductive, and bowing his head not nearly low enough, “I merely overheard my name. I am Prince Loki, of Asgard. I met your friend, Princess Rapunzel, earlier this night.”

              Elsa didn’t turn around to see the princess of Corona’s reaction. Instead, she raised an eyebrow.

              “Yes, she told me of your little meeting,” the queen said coldly, “And she also told me that you don’t understand our custom of shaking hands.”

              Loki seemed to remain unfazed, and Elsa noticed with puzzlement that he seemed to have a very slight shimmer surrounding him. Was she imagining that?

              “I am truly sorry if I have offended you, your majesty,” he offered another poor excuse for a bow, “I come from a far away land, and I--”

              “Yes, Asgard. I know,” she interrupted him rudely, and noted a slight twitch of his brow with satisfaction, “Tell me, Prince Loki, where is your kingdom of Asgard?”

              His gaze darkened ever so slightly, “Across the skies, my queen,” he tilted his head, studying her, and took a step closer, “Over oceans unimaginably deep. You cannot imagine the strife I endured to arrive here this day.” She noticed, now that Loki stood nearer to her, that he smelled strongly of pine.

              Elsa stared him down defiantly, “My heart aches for your trials, Prince,” she said coolly, “Though I’ve never been one for poetry.”

              “How about music?” he persisted smoothly.

              “I hate music,” she lied, readying herself to call the guards.

              Loki cocked his head to the side, “Pity, your grace. Will I not be dancing with your highness tonight, then?” He didn’t look as though he thought it a pity at all. The way he was looking at her reminded Elsa of a wolf. Perhaps it was just the predatory subtext.

              “Why would I dance with someone whom I didn’t invite to begin with?”

              “Invite? Why do I need an invitation? Where I come from, all who want to bask in a royal’s glory are--”

              “Alright, enough!” Anna marched over from her place behind her sister to form a semicircle with the two, “Cut him some slack, Elsa! I mean, the more the merrier, right?” The redhead turned to positively beam at Loki, who pretended not to notice. Rapunzel had started chatting with a dark skinned princess in a spring green dress, slowly inching away from the argument and back towards the desert table.

              Elsa clenched and unclenched her jaw, knowing the exact reason for her sister’s friendliness, “Anna, I am not looking for suitors right now. And shouldn’t you be with Kristoff?”

              She waved this idea away casually, “He can manage himself for a night. I think you and Prince Loki should dance together. He’s come all this way… might as well give him what he came for.”

              The queen was having difficulty hiding her outrage as she answered, turning to the prince, “I don’t dance. I am truly sorry for the disappointment. My sister would be more than happy to do you the favor, however.”

              For whatever reason, the prince of Asgard seemed just as enthusiastic about this idea as the last one. Elsa wasn’t sure why this upset her, but it did. Anna stuck her tongue out at her sister as she put a hand on Loki’s offered arm. It was just then that Rapunzel gasped so loudly that a few people around them turned to stare before going back to their mingling.

              The queen followed the princess of Corona’s wide eyed gaze to a sizeable pool of scarlet on the floor.

              “Oh my God!” Anna suddenly exclaimed. Elsa looked to her sister with alarm only to find the redhead examining her own hand, palm coated in blood. The very same hand that had, a moment ago, been resting on Prince Loki’s arm.

              Looking absolutely horrified, Anna grabbed Loki’s wrist, pulling him closer to her so she could find his apparent wound. There was, Elsa noticed, nothing there. Her sister, realizing the same, quickly twisted his arm so she could see the underside, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from the prince.

              Still nothing there. Was he hurt somewhere else? How did Anna’s hands get so covered in blood…?

              Looking more panicked by the moment, the redhead turned his arm back over, only to this time find a deep, jagged wound, still dripping blood.

              Why hadn’t they noticed that before? And why, the queen wondered, did Loki look so...irritated?

              “Prince Loki, you’re hurt!” Anna exclaimed, still staring at his injury, “Why didn’t you say something?”

              “I did not want,” he answered smoothly, “to spoil the queen’s evening.” The prince met Elsa’s eyes, again with the same hungry look. She had to fight the urge to slap him.

              “Never fear, my evening is not spoiled,” the queen said dryly, “Where did you get that from?”

              He took a few steps away from Anna, back towards Elsa, “...Your lands are...perilous, my queen,” he murmured. Just as she opened her mouth to retort, her sister interjected.

              “Well, we’d hate for you to leave thinking of us as dangerous,” the redhead said cheerfully, “Why don’t you stay with us a few nights? You can’t really go on your long journey back without...ow!”

              Anna looked accusingly at Elsa, who returned her foot to its original position.

              “Will you excuse us, for a moment?” the queen asked sweetly. Without waiting for an answer, she tugged her sister a few feet away, leaving Loki alone in the crowd.

              “Are you insane?” the queen hissed, “He’s crazy! We can’t let him stay with us!”

              “Elsa, you’ve got to learn to let things go. I mean, he’s pretty badly hurt. It’s dangerous out there. We’ve got wolves, and it’s so cold this time of year…”

              “Good,” Elsa interrupted darkly.

              “What has he even done, Elsa?”

              “He’s another Hans, and you know it! I don’t want to go through that again!”

              “Ok, alright,” Anna put her hands up, “Please explain to me how he is similar to Hans.”

              “He’s...he’s got that...that...I don’t know!” the queen exclaimed, “I just have a really bad feeling. We don’t need to go through another plot. Have you forgotten that he snuck in?”

              “He’s just a foreign guy on the quiet side. What could go wrong?”

              “He could try to kill us! He--”

              “Then use your powers and freeze him in a block of ice,” the redhead said matter of factly.

              “It’s not that easy!”

              “Elsa, listen,” Anna said gently, “I’m sure it will be fine. He’ll stay a few days, get better, then leave. Easy peasy.”

              “You just like him because he’s hot,” Elsa moaned.

              “Hey, I’m taken,” the younger sister jerked her head in Kristoff’s direction, “So I’m doing you a favor here.”

              “I’m queen, so what I say goes. And I say _he goes_.”

              “Please, Elsa. I feel bad for the guy. Show a little mercy. If you don’t, he’ll go back and tell everyone in… Asgard how unwelcoming we were.”

              “Or he gets eaten by wolves.”

              “Okay, but where was the last place he was going?”

              The queen had no answer for that, and regretfully made her way back to where the prince in green was standing.

              “We of course welcome you to stay with us as long as you need, Prince Loki,” Elsa announced, “What is ours is yours. Anna,” she looked pointedly at her sister, “will show you to your chambers. We will have a nurse there to help you with your arm as soon as possible.”

              “You are very generous, my queen. I accept your offer with the utmost...gratitude,” his eyes glinted at her as he spoke, making Elsa more sickened than she had been looking at a pool of his blood.

              Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t just sent her sister to be alone with him.

  

<br />

 

              Loki allowed himself to be towed away by the redheaded girl, cradling his arm. Part of him cursed himself for not thinking through his illusion, but he supposed it had worked out in the end. After all, Midgardian women did tend to have more...maternal tendencies than Asgardian women did.

              Although, it seemed that ‘Queen Elsa’ did not harbor any of those feelings at all. He smirked at her as she threw one last glare in his direction. He already realized that, to secure himself shelter for a long enough time, he would have to get one of them, her or her sister, to notice him romantically. The redhead was definitely an easier target, but…

              Part of him liked a challenge enough to take an interest in her. She would certainly be more interesting than the chattering bird next to him, and seemed far more intelligent, to say the very least. He’d always liked stubborn women better, anyway.

              Plus, given that she was Midgardian, he doubted that she would be _too_ bothersome. They’d be having the wedding in a week. Then he could bide his time until he figured out a way back to Asgard…or developed another plan. He couldn’t say the idea of returning was exactly appealing.

               “--and so I’m sure you won’t have to worry about bugs in your soup,” the redhead finished as they stopped walking. Loki gave her a questioning look, and she laughed awkwardly. “I, uh, guess it wasn’t a great story to tell a guest. You’re probably feeling overwhelmed enough as it is.”

               The god resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “It is… a lot to take in…”

               “Oh! That reminds me! Before we get your arm all patched up, I should let you know a few of our customs. Just so there’s no more ‘hand shaking’ type confusion!”

               _Love of the Allfather…_

“That would be most… helpful,” he couldn’t even will himself to force a smile. The pain in his arm was excruciating, and he was actually starting to feel almost woozy from blood loss.

               “Ok, well first, we shake hands when we first meet someone,” she explained, “You do it like this,” Loki reluctantly allowed her to take his uninjured hand in hers and move it up and down, grinning the entire time. “Also, when we want to show we care about someone, we hug them,” she opened her arms, and a bright red flag went up in Loki’s mind. He was familiar with _this_ custom.

               The redhead must have noticed his discomfort, because she froze about halfway through the action and let her arms fall back to her sides. Clearing her throat to cover the silence that followed, she continued.

               “Also, when one person likes another one a lot, they kiss them. That’s when you press your lips together and--”

               “We…have that in Asgard,” Loki interrupted her, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation.

               “Oh, okay!” somehow, _miraculously,_ she seemed undeterred, “Well, you should know that also, when someone is in love, or wants to be romantic, they get the other person flowers. Or chocolate sometimes, or-”

               The god dimly wondered if they still had witch hunts in this remote little village. Probably.

               “—and I got Kristoff a sled one time, which he really liked. So I guess it’s just a matter of figuring out what _they_ really love--”

               “Miss Anna,” Loki interjected again, irritated, “Are you, by any chance, hinting at something?”

               “ _Hinting?_ ” she asked incredulously, “I’ve got Kristoff, you dog!” with surprising strength, she hit him on the arm, seeming to forget his injury. He stifled a groan.

               “Oh, sorry,” she put a hand to her mouth, then on his shoulder, “We’re here, anyway. Feel better!” Positively beaming, she opened the door for him, and, after he entered, closed it behind him.

               The floors were of a dark, textured wood, presumably from the needled trees in the surrounding forests. A large, canopied bed piled high with blankets and pillows was the main piece of furniture in the room, and underneath it was an intricately designed carpet. There was also a mirror, a vanity, a dresser, and a large, unlit fireplace, opposite the bed. Most of the decorations were of blues and purples, with the occasional splash of green or yellow. It was cozy, he supposed, though extremely primitive. It looked as though all they had were gas lamps to light the place. They hadn’t even reached the point of _electricity_ yet…

               Loki wandered over to the large window dominating most of the wall he faced. It seemed as though that would prove to be a much better light source than anything else they could provide. He studied the snow flurrying past, and felt a slight pang of homesickness, followed by one of anger. He did not miss Asgard. He did _not._

               A knock at the door pulled Loki out of his thoughts, and he turned around as he called, “Enter!”

               A portly woman entered, carrying with her a basket of what he assumed were medical supplies. She was a brunette with rosy cheeks and warm eyes, and was likely a servant, given her code of dress.

               “If you’ll just have a seat, sire, I’ll have you patched up so you can sleep,” she nodded towards the bed and he complied, suddenly apprehensive of what she planned to do to him.

               “I can do it myself if--” he started to protest.

               “Nonsense. You’ll only hurt yourself further. I see how these things happen.”

               He threw her a questioning look, watching her pull a jar full of a mysterious brew out of the basket out of the corner of his eye, “Does the princess have a tendency of doing that?”

               “Anna?” she looked at him incredulously, “Well, it’s not my place to say. But as the queen’s handmaiden, I can say Elsa is probably just as bad as her sister, if not worse.”

               Loki raised an eyebrow, intrigued, “And why has the queen sent her personal handmaiden to tend to the injured prince?”

               She took his injured arm in her hand and rolled the sleeve up, exposing the entire wound, and released him a moment to unscrew the jar. It didn’t smell pleasant.

               “What is _that?_ ” Loki wrinkled his nose, eyeing it suspiciously.

               “Special recipe, passed down through royal families for generations. It heals quicker than any brew the villagers have ever been able to cook up!”

               “What’s the secret?” he asked, doubting the primitive medicine still.

               “Nothing to worry about, sire. Now hold still.”

               Loki winced as she spread the brew over his arm, but he supposed it did provide a pleasant cooling sensation. He suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness wash over him, and wondered if there was a sedative mixed into it. In a matter of minutes, she was wrapping his arm with bandages, and tying the end off in a tight knot.

               “Would you like your fireplace lit, Prince Loki?” she offered, gathering up her things in the basket again.

               “Ah…” the god eyed the fireplace, considering whether or not he could risk going without it lit. If he lit it, he would be far too hot for most of the night, and he was _so_ tired…but if he didn’t light it, they could think him strange, and possibly his chances of staying longer would be damaged.

               But, he needed sleep. And so, he sent the woman off with a quick, “No, thank you.” Just before she reached the door, however, a thought occurred to him.

               “Miss?” he called after her.

               “Yes, sire?”

               “If…Queen Elsa is still awake, can you relay a message to her?”

               “Of course, what is it?”

               A corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk, “Goodnight, and sweet dreams.”

 

              

              

  


	3. Chapter 3

               Elsa hammered on her sister’s door.

               “Anna! Open up!”

               No response.

               The queen slammed her fist against the wood a few more times, growing increasingly panicked by the second.

               “Anna, _please_! This is important, and I-”

               “Let me guess!” her sister’s muffled voice hollered back, “You’ve got your skirts in a twist because of Loki, again!”

               Elsa couldn’t stop a blush from creeping onto her cheeks, “No! That’s not-- well, it’s about Prince Loki! Open up!”

               Something in between a roar and a groan answered her, followed by the sound of feet padding on hardwood floor. The queen sighed with relief when her sister opened the door, and Anna barely had a moment to greet her sister before the blonde shoved them both back into the open doorway.

               “Listen, I have to tell you what he did,” Elsa hissed.

               “Let me guess” Anna yawned, rubbing her eyes, “Something incriminating.”

               “Yes…wait, no! Anna, this is serious! You know how I’ve been sending Mia to take care of him?”

               The redhead slowly nodded, still half asleep. It had been Elsa’s _brilliant_ idea to send her personal handmaiden to take care of Loki, in an attempt to gain more information about him. If her instincts were right, he was not one to treat servants kindly, or to think that their words held any weight. The queen was hoping that the prince in green would do something either unkind or stupid, revealing his true nature and giving her an excuse to banish him, in front of Mia. Elsa thought it was foolproof. Anna thought it was just foolish.

               “Well, he sent me a _message_ ,” the queen’s lip curled around the word, as though it was bitter, “through her.”

               “Alright, cute, cute. What was the message?” the redhead asked calmly.

               “‘Goodnight, and sweet dreams,’” Elsa relayed.

               There was a short pause, “…that’s it?” Anna asked.

               “What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” the queen exclaimed incredulously, “It was creepy! I didn’t like it. I know you think he’s hot but I want him out, _today._ ”

               “Elsa,” the younger sister rolled her eyes, “This is getting out of hand. Give the poor guy a chance. Damn, what if he meant it in a nice way?”

               “But-”

               “No _buts_ ,” Anna persisted, “I’m inviting him to have breakfast with us. He probably has the _biggest_ crush on you, and the least you could do is let him down easy. But hear him out, _at least._ Now let me get dressed.”

               With that, the redhead shoved her elder sister out of her room, shutting the door behind her. Elsa stared at the wood in front of her a moment, openmouthed, more surprised at Anna’s lack of concern about Loki than the fact that she’d just slammed a door in the queen’s face. That, Elsa thought, was a relatively common occurrence in Arendelle.

<br />

“Prince Loki?”

               The god fought an urge to lash out when he felt a gentle grip on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. He actually had been quite comfortable through the night, and would have slept well if his thoughts hadn’t kept him awake for a majority of the sleeping hours.

               All through the night he had been unable to quiet his mind from constructing plans for Elsa’s seduction, going over her every movement, every gesture, every twitch he could remember from their conversation. He needed all the material he could get if he was going to melt _this_ iceberg.

               Pity he and Thor hadn’t had more time to discuss _his_ romance with a mortal. Perhaps they could have found some common ground.

               Loki inwardly scoffed at this idea, rolling over so that his face was buried in one of the bed’s many blankets, this one made from some sort of animal fur. The hairs on the pelt were short and unbelievably soft; he wondered what beast it had come from.

               “Were you too hot, Prince?”

               The god sighed, more out of weariness than anything, and rolled back onto his back, finally opening his eyes and propping himself up with his elbows and the help of a few pillows. The same servant girl from the night before, the queen’s handmaiden, was staring dubiously at the many blankets beneath him. He hadn’t slept underneath a single one of them.

               “We have much colder temperatures where I come from,” Loki explained offhandedly.

               She shook her head, offering a halfhearted laugh, “I find that hard to believe, Prince. It can get pretty brisk here…”

               “You seem used to it,” he nodded at her uniform, which, while not revealing, surely didn’t provide much insulation against the current temperatures.

               “Well, I live here!” she explained incredulously, and Loki marveled at her nerve. Clearly, Queen Elsa let her servants have a good deal of leash. Just like Thor, then.

               “And,” she continued, “We can’t just assume our guests will be as used to it as we all are by now,” she nodded at the bed again, “It seems you found the clothes fine?”

               Loki nodded, confirming. While the redheaded princess…Anna, he remembered her name was, had been chatting him up, they must have stocked his room’s dressers with everything from sleep clothes to formalwear; which was convenient, given that he no longer had to keep a constant illusion on himself. He had never attempted to keep one going while he slept before, and, even if he had needed to, he wasn’t sure he was capable.

               “Did the Queen get my message?” he asked suddenly.

               “Oh, your good night message?” she shifted uncomfortably, and Loki smirked slightly as he nodded confirmation.

               “Yes…she got it.”

               He looked at her expectantly.

               “Is there something the matter, Prince Loki?” her voice was sharp. Far too sharp, he noted, for a servant.

               “What,” he grinned at her, reminding Mia of a shark, “was her response?” Loki started to get off the bed, and the servant, despite seeming put off by his height, stood her ground. Stupid girl.

               “She didn’t seem to appreciate your advances.”

               He chuckled, sending a shiver down her spine, “You cannot address me like that.”

               “You will show Queen Elsa respect, or-”

               “Or _what_?” he hissed, eyes darkening as he took another step towards her, “Your word has no authority amongst royalty, you little--”

               Just at that moment, the door slammed open, sending both Loki and Mia to jump about a foot into the air. The god fought an urge to scream and the servant one to sing as a distraction in the form of Anna bounced in.

               “Good morning, Princess!” the servant beamed, rushing to greet her and get as far from Loki as she could.

               “Hey, Mia! Hey, Loki!” to both the god and the servant’s disdain, the redhead continued skipping towards the prince, “You sleep good?”

               “Fan _tastic_ ,” he answered, teeth gleaming as he grinned at her, “And you, Princess Anna?”

               “Great!” she chirped, “Did you just wake up?”

               “Yes, unfortunately.”

               “Hey! You can’t sleep through the whole day! That’s what night is for, right?”

               “On the contrary, Miss Anna,” he said darkly, “I think you’ll find, as you grow older, that night is oftentimes for much more than sleeping.”

               She stared at him a moment, for once actually looking disturbed by his statement. The redhead quickly shook it off, however, and proceeded to continue pestering him.

               “You’re such a flirt. Elsa told me about your goodnight message, by the way.”

               “It seems,” Loki grumbled, “that she has told the entire castle.”

               “No, just me and Mia.”

               The god was tempted to ask her if everyone in this castle behaved like an insolent six year old, but decided it would be counterproductive. Instead, he settled for a simple, “Are you hungry?”

               Princess Anna nodded eagerly, looking to Loki like she was, in fact, no older than six, “I should be asking _you_ that, though! You should eat with me, Kristoff, and Elsa! The cooks are making pancakes, today!”

               Loki hadn’t the slightest idea what ‘pancakes’ were, but he nodded his affirmation that this was a good idea. It was interesting that their royal family was so small. Given Elsa and Anna’s ages, shouldn’t there still be a former king and queen in the picture? Unless, instead of a specific age ascending the throne, the former rulers needed to die first. In that case, what happened to their parents? Perhaps Elsa killed them so as to claim her throne. She certainly was cold enough to do it.

               “Allow me a moment to dress, it won’t take long,” the god commanded, and a smiling Anna left the room to wait for him.

               After a few moments of rummaging through the clothes in the dresser, Loki finally managed to put a suitable looking outfit together. The god then moved on to his hair. It had dried, mercifully, as it usually did, even after all the snow it was soaked through with. Perhaps that was his Frost Giant bloodline at work. He decided not to bother with it any further. All anyone around here seemed to do with their hair was braid it anyway, and that was _not_ going to happen.

               He stood back, admiring his work in the mirror over the vanity. Most of his smaller injuries had healed overnight, leaving his face and most of the rest of his skin free of scratches. He still smelled of the needle trees, but that was something he could likely solve with a bath tonight. Loki supposed it wasn’t an _unpleasant_ scent, especially if one was used to it. And around here, they seemed to be used to all manner of unusual things.

               With one last critical glance over himself, the god threw his door open, ready for breakfast with Arendelle’s royals.

<br />

               Elsa scowled at her pancakes, as though it were their fault that Prince Loki was in her kingdom.

               “He’s really that bad, huh?” Kristoff asked her from her left. Currently, only he and the queen were seated in the dining room, and despite the mouthwatering smell of breakfast in the air, Elsa didn’t feel hungry at all. She just shook her head in response to the question. Maybe she _was_ being unfair, but did it really matter? She was allowed to simply not like someone for her own reasons, wasn’t she?

               Before either could say anything more, however, the prince in question entered the hall with a chattering Anna. He threw Elsa a flirtatious glance before returning his attention to the redhead, looking amused. The queen started studying her pancakes as though they were the most fascinating thing in the world, and Kristoff chuckled. Traitor.

               “Did you sleep well, Queen Elsa?” Prince Loki asked smoothly as he sat down to her right. Anna took her seat between Kristoff and Elsa, and a servant brought in breakfast for the two newcomers, setting plates of food down gingerly in front of each of them.

               “Not particularly,” the queen answered coolly. She didn’t want to give him any ammo.

               “…I am sorry to hear that,” Loki studied her a moment before turning his attention towards his food, which he poked at with a fork curiously.

               “Do they have pancakes in Asgard?” Kristoff asked, filling the awkward silence.

               Prince Loki seemed strangely surprised, for whatever reason, to see Kristoff sitting there. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, studying the blonde for a moment before catching himself and answering with one last curious glance between Anna and her lover.

               “No, we don’t. Which is unfortunate, because these are very good,” he said politely, finally taking a bite and chewing it carefully.

               “How is your arm?” Elsa asked Loki, catching everyone at the table off guard, except for the one person it was meant to.

               The prince grinned at her, and the queen cursed, knowing that he saw through the trick question.

               “Much better, thanks to your hospitality, though I daresay it will need a bit longer to heal.”

               “That’s unfortunate,” Elsa grumbled, alarming Anna with the expression on her face. She looked and felt like she was ready to break Loki’s arm herself.

               “You should come to the festival today, Prince Loki!” the redhead suggested, and the queen fought an urge to strangle her.

               “Festival?” Elsa could have sworn his eyes lit up with mischief as he spoke the word, “I wasn’t told of a festival. Further coronation celebrations?”

               “Yes,” the queen snapped at him, starting to get angry, “This time, it’s a festival for the _people_.”

               “It’s three days,” Anna interjected eagerly, “And on the last day, Elsa will--”

               The blonde in question cleared her throat loudly, and her sister stopped talking, offering a sheepish grin in apology. Elsa glared at her; she doubted Anna said what she did on accident.

               “It sounds,” Prince Loki said smugly, “delightful.”

<br />

               The first few hours of the festival passed without much event. The sun was shining, there was a chill in the air, and, overall, everyone seemed to be having a splendid afternoon. Children laughed and flower petals drifted through the chocolate scented air as Elsa and Anna made their way through the city, smiling and chatting with whoever they could.

               “Elsa!” a tiny voice sounded from behind the queen. She and her sister were in the center of the city, in the main square, where most of the festivities were taking place.

               “No, honey, you call her _Queen_ Elsa,” a parent chastised the little girl just as Elsa turned around to greet them, “Your majesty, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t know--”

               “It’s no problem!” the queen promised, calming the mother’s worried expression. She knelt down to face the brunette, “What’s your name?”

               “Celia!” the girl’s voice shook slightly with excitement.

               “Are you having a good time, Celia?” Elsa asked kindly.

               “Yeah!”

               “Would you like me to show you some magic?”

               The girl’s eyes went wide just as her mother’s narrowed, “Yes!”

               Without another word, the queen’s palms lit up with a gentle flurry of snowflakes, resulting in delighted giggles from the child and an amused smile from the now calmed mother. Elsa stood up, the ice in her palms dying down. Anna, still nearby, had drifted a little bit to start chatting with a pair of men with an animal at their feet that was likely a dog, but looked more like a small bear.

               “She’s been talking about meeting you all day, your majesty,” the mother said gently, and the queen smiled.

               “I hope you both enjoy the rest of the celebration. Make sure you get some truffles, before they’re all gone.”

               Elsa turned away from the family of two, taking a moment to survey the scene around her. Now that they had some time away from Prince Loki, she and Anna had stopped bickering completely. The queen was already feeling much better now that she could feel the cold against her skin, the fresh air burning her lungs. She sighed contentedly, taking a moment to consider perspective. Maybe she _had_ been too unkind to Prince Loki. The people were happy, snow was on the way, and there was an _admittedly_ handsome stranger staying with her in the castle. Perhaps she should give him a chance.

               The queen strolled leisurely towards a flower stand, inhaling deeply, and the vendor smiled at her.

               “You seem happy, my queen,” he observed.

               Elsa sighed, “I am happy, yes.” It was true. Her eyes raked over the large selection of blooms for sale, but it took her a moment to find her favorites. Black Irises, though most of the locals called them Black Ice, named for the invisible, deadly ice that sent about a dozen people sliding to their deaths each year, straight off the mountain. How strange it was, the queen marveled, that something so beautiful could be named for something so dangerous.

               “Are those your favorites, my queen?” a voice purred in her ear, managing with six words to send her mood snowballing down a hill, straight into the ocean.

               _Perspective,_ the queen reminded herself, turning around to face her least favorite prince in green, leaning up against the side of the stand.

               “Which ones?” she asked neutrally. She hated the way his eyes glinted in the sunlight. She hated his stupid smirk. She hated _him._ All thoughts of being kinder were very quickly dissipating from her mind.

               Prince Loki reached behind his back, “These, of course.”

               Elsa’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he revealed to her a sizeable bouquet of none other than Black Irises. _Why_ did he have to guess correctly?

               “I…um…” the queen hesitated a moment before taking the flowers from him, hoping he’d actually bought and not stolen them.

               “So strange that they bloom in winter,” he murmured, “But then,” he met her eyes with a gaze that felt like it could draw blood, “I suppose the best things do.”

               Elsa’s stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t tell if it was from fear or…something else.

               “Thank you,” the queen said slowly, “but I’m not interested.”

               At this point, the vendor chose to speak up, “Come now, your majesty! Even I can see that you’re blushing!” Despite their polite conversation earlier, Elsa now wanted nothing more than to throttle him.

               “My queen, I _know_ how you feel. I can see it in your eyes,” Prince Loki said flirtatiously, green eyes dark.

               The queen’s palms started to ice over with rage, as did her expression. This man knew nothing of her. Who was he to presume he understood how she felt about anything?

               She laughed cruelly, “You don’t know anything, Prince.” With that, she spun on her heel and marched away from him, feeling his smirk on her back like a dagger.

<br />

               Loki decided to give the angry mortal a bit of time to herself, after that. Surely not enough to forget him, but enough to calm down and take a moment to…smell the roses.

               It was strange, being at a Midgardian festival. Surprisingly, they were not all that different from Asgardian ones. He still remembered the last one he’d been to. Thor had gotten so drunk he’d nearly started a war. Everyone had thought it hilarious.

               He, however, had seen though the performance. Loki still marveled at the fact that someone so reckless could be considered a worthy king, especially when he could barely get through a single party without embarrassing his entire bloodline. But, apparently, it was rooted in Asgardian culture that, if you were like _Thor_ , then you were _supposed_ to act a fool. _Thor_ didn’t need to act like a king, and he was still worshiped. Loki acted like one, and he was deemed an outsider.

               Suddenly, the god of mischief remembered why he hated parties. Perhaps he and Queen Elsa had that in common.

               She’d been rude, as was to be expected, but her will would be breaking very shortly. He knew it. It had been about half an hour since he’d last spoken to her—perhaps it was time to make another visit.

               He found her with her sister, watching a street musician. The redhead saw him first and notified her sister with a giggle. Elsa only frowned, brow furrowing.

               “What do you want?” she demanded as he approached. Loki had to admit, she was certainly full of fire for someone who lived in a place so cold.

               “I came to see you,” he grinned sweetly, and exchanged playful glances with Anna as she inched away towards the blonde madman who, apparently, wasn’t so mad after all, despite harvesting ice and talking to his pets, “and I thought you hated music.”

               Elsa glared at him, “I lied,” she said matter of factly, “I don’t hate music.” _I just hate you,_ her expression seemed to say the second part on its own.

               “Good,” he grinned, suddenly noticing the absence of flowers with amusement. Likely, she had given them away. “Then perhaps you’ll give me a dance?”

               She took a step away from him, “I am _never_ going to dance with you.”

               “What,” Loki asked, “have I ever done to you?” He was starting to wonder the answer to the question himself.

               “It’s not what you’ve done,” she said, “It’s what you’re going to do. I’ve met men like you before.”

               The god thought of Thor, and mentally grimaced, “I assure you,” he said lowly, “I am not like them.”

               “I don't trust you enough to give you a chance to prove it.”

               Loki stepped towards her, taking her hands in his before she could protest, “Then let’s build a little trust, shall we?”

               The queen was, he noted, starting to look truly alarmed. Was she actually pretending to be _afraid_ of him? Was he honestly _that_ undesirable to her?    Did she not know she was speaking to a _god_? Loki was so caught up in these thoughts that he didn’t notice her hands did not seem unnaturally warm to him. In fact, they were about the same temperature.

               “Let go of me,” she sneered quietly, not wanting to make a scene.

               “Why?” he cocked his head to the side innocently.

               “You smell like you fell out of a tree.”

               “Do I?” Loki’s eyes glittered with malice, “Do you think I need a bath, your majesty?”

               “I think you need to go to--”

               “Perhaps you could join me…”

               “ _What?_ ” the queen shoved him away with alarm, and the god took a few steps back, watching with amusement. “You’re lucky I don’t arrange to have you tossed to the wolves!”

               A few people were staring, and Elsa lowered her voice, reluctantly taking a few steps towards Loki again, “Look, I don’t know how they do courtship in _Asgard_ , but-”

               “Where I’m from,” he growled, “It is customary for petty girls to appreciate what they can get and not complain. You’ve been very rude, _your majesty_.” It was a complete and utter lie, but if Loki was honest with himself, he was starting to get genuinely irritated with her. Before he could think another word, however, he was met with a slap across the face.

               The god stumbled, actually caught off balance by the blow. Why did it _sting_? She shouldn’t have the strength to harm him! With shock, Loki realized that his cheek felt warm not only because of the contact, but because scarlet was steadily dripping from a fresh cut there.

               _How…?_

If he weren’t so upset, the god would have been fascinated by the fact that the queen had actually managed to draw blood. Had she done that with her nails? She wasn’t wearing a ring of any sort…

               The prince in green took a breath as he steadied himself and glared at Elsa, relishing how she flinched, ever so slightly, under his gaze.

               “I am queen here,” she said regally, “and you will address me as such. You are a guest here, Prince Loki of Asgard, and while we pride ourselves on our hospitality, that can only be extended so far.”

               Loki examined the blood on his hand, taking a moment to pull himself together. He wasn’t quite so upset anymore…more frustrated than anything. _How_ had she done that?

               The god took care to soften his expression slightly, along with his voice as he backed away, “You have my sincerest apologies, my queen.”

<br />

               After the prince in green was a satisfying distance away, Elsa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. That was _too_ close. Far, far, too close.

               Part of her had expected him to fight back. An even more frightening part of her had _wanted_ him to fight back. But that, she now realized, would have ended horrifically.

               It had just occurred to her that Prince Loki probably didn’t know what she was. Why else would he dare to provoke her? The entire kingdom knew that she had enough power to easily kill a man—many were even afraid of her. Loki clearly wasn’t stupid, and he’d never mentioned her ice in any attempts to flirt with her thus far; he was the type who would use any material they could get.

               Elsa decided then that Prince Loki could never, never find out about her powers. She hadn’t been able to stop a small needle of ice from forming in her palm as she’d struck him, and while it was satisfying seeing the blood it drew, the feeling was short lived. As he’d lifted his palm to his cheek, he’d looked not angry, nor hurt, but extremely, extremely curious. He’d looked at her afterwards like a child did something strange crawling on the ground, and that was more disturbing to her than any of his wrath could be. If he found out, he would never, ever let go of her.

               The queen turned around, searching the crowd for Anna, and found her relatively quickly, laughing with Kristoff about something. Evidently, they hadn’t seen the previous scene. Either that, or they didn’t care. Perhaps that was what they were laughing about. Nevertheless, the blonde quickly made her way towards them, trying not to look as panicked as she felt.

               “What are you so upset about?” Anna asked. She wasn’t laughing anymore, but looked relatively happy still.

               “What am I-? Did you _not_ just see what happened, Anna?” Elsa would never understand her sister’s easygoing nature. It was one thing to be optimistic, but this was downright foolish.

               “Yeah,” Kristoff answered for the redhead, “We saw. Didn’t know you had it in you, Elsa. Was that _blood_ on his cheek I saw?”

               The queen felt a mysterious surge of pride, short lived compared to the panic that quickly drowned it, “Yes, there was blood on his cheek. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I don’t think he knows I have powers.”

               Anna looked at her blankly, “So?”

               “So!” Elsa exclaimed, “So he can’t know. I think he might know something is off, and I’ve decided I don’t want him knowing. So don’t tell him.”

               Both of them stared at her in silence.

               “Elsa,” Kristoff started, “You can’t be serious. I mean, you’re _known_ for being the Ice Queen. The whole village knows what you are. It’s no secret. How are we supposed to keep it from him? If we don’t tell him, someone else will. Possibly on accident.”

               “And,” Anna added, “Didn’t Rapunzel say last night that he said he liked your ice sculptures?”

               “I think he thinks I did it the old fashioned way,” the queen grumbled, “Look, he clearly comes from far enough away that he doesn’t know about me yet. So please just keep the secret. I didn’t like the way he looked at me. It was like Hans…”

               The younger sister’s expression softened, “Elsa, we don’t know that he’s Hans. But we do know that he’s not stupid. He’s going to figure out what you are sometime, so--”

               “ _What_ I am? What am I, Anna? Everyone thinks my powers make me something other than what they are! I’m sick of the looks!” It was a childish thing to say, and unfair, given the amount of support she had from 90% of the villagers, but at this point, Elsa wasn’t really feeling like being fair to anyone.

               “Elsa, no one’s giving you looks…” Kristoff started.

               “Don’t even try, Kristoff,” the queen shook her head, “I’m going inside for the day.” She didn’t feel like celebrating anymore.

<br />

               Anna watched her sister go, and shook her head.

               “You should go after her,” Kristoff said softly, “Don’t let her get too deep into her head.”

               “No,” the redhead said, a plan forming, “I think I’m going to go after _him_.”

               “Prince Loki?” the blonde was incredulous, “You can’t be serious. The last thing she needs is to be bothered more by-”

               But Anna was already gone.

<br />

               “Prince Loki!”

               The god looked up from the fruit he was examining to see a petite redhead prancing towards him.

               Setting the fruit down, he turned to face her, “Princess Anna…” he greeted.

               “Oh, please,” she waved him off, “Call me Anna.”

               He raised an eyebrow, “You don’t use your royal title?” Allfather, she was so strange.

               “It’s just a mouthful sometimes. I’m more Anna than princess, so…” she shrugged, “Is your face okay?”

               In spite of himself, Loki laughed, “My face is fine, Princess Anna. My ego has seen better days, however.”

               She gave a rather unladylike snort, and Loki couldn’t help but smile a little. If anything, this one was certainly a happy creature.

               “Don’t worry, I’m sure it will heal fast,” Anna said, “I’ll help you get on Elsa’s good side.”

               This time, it was Loki’s turn to snort, “That will be a feat indeed.”

               “No, I mean it!” she insisted, putting a small hand on his arm, “You’ll get her, don’t worry! You just can’t come on so strong.”

               Loki narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious of her kindness. He wondered if Elsa had sent her to mock him.

               “Why are you telling me this?” he questioned.

               “Don’t worry,” she seemed to read his thoughts, “Elsa didn’t send me. She’s up at the castle, now.”

               Perhaps, Loki thought, the little redhead wasn’t as stupid as she seemed. A corner of his mouth twitched up as he spoke next.

               “What do you ‘recommend’, then?”

               “Well,” Anna reached behind him to grab the red fruit he’d been examining earlier, and, slapping a few coins onto the counter, continued, “Elsa likes…she likes…really seeing people. None of that poetic stuff. She’d rather hear the person talking.”

               Loki studied her, “And what happens,” he wondered aloud, “when she doesn’t like what she finds?” An amusing theory, this was. The god doubted that the queen would like what she saw if she saw the real him, much less the real…anyone else. Wasn’t that the point of courtship? Each partner only saw the very best of the other, no more. No one really enjoyed seeing another person, completely uncensored. It was why most made love in the dark, he’d theorized.

               “But isn’t that what love is about? You accept the other person, even though you see their flaws.”

               Their gazes met, and Loki was surprised by the intensity present when his eyes met hers. She knew something. Or sensed it.

               “…no,” he said wearily, “In my experience, that’s not what love is about.”

               “Maybe you haven’t experienced real love,” Anna challenged. All humor seemed to have left her tone. Snow had started to fall around them, each flake small and needle shaped. If it had been cold enough, Loki knew it would have stung his skin, just as the redhead’s last statement had.

               “Maybe you’re right,” the god said quietly. The wind was picking up, and people were starting to go inside their homes. It was strange, given that just earlier that day, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky.

               He had, of course, been in romantic relations before. But none of them had ever meant anything. He’d wager that none of Thor’s had meant anything, either, despite the fact that his older brother had had far more of them. All of it, essentially, was the same thing. Life went on just as it had before, except now there was one more person to notify when something happened, and to kiss or make love to every now and again. Every time, it ended over some petty dispute. Loki didn’t even think he could remember the names of most of his former interests.

               Anna slapped a hand on his shoulder, effectively knocking him out of his thoughts. The god dimly wondered what these Midgardian women were eating to possess such strength.

               “Don’t talk to her anymore tonight, okay? I’ll get her out of her funk. We’ll eat some chocolate, laugh about Kristoff, braid our hair…she’ll be good as new by day two of the festival! Then you two can give it another try.”

               Loki felt an unexpected wave of fondness for Anna. Perhaps she wasn’t so much like Thor after all.

               “Have fun,” he grinned at her.

               “Don’t worry!” the redhead started to walk away, still facing him, “I will! And take a bath—you smell like trees!”

               The god watched her go, red hair and the apple she carried the only beacons of color in the grey storm surrounding them.

              

              

 

              

              

              

 

              

              

              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm wonder how festival day two will go? I’m just here to let you guys know two things. A- Don’t look up the flowers. I made them up. B-I made an official playlist for this story! My username on 8tracks radio is the same as it is here, and the playlist is just called Black Ice. Not every song currently applies, since it’s for the whole story, but maybe it will give you a few theories as to where this is headed. ;) Thanks for all your lovely reviews, and I’ll see you next time.


	4. Chapter 4

               _Elsa quietly picked her way through the woods. Her every step seemed to echo in the darkened forest, and her heartbeat sounded in her ears. Surely, whatever was watching her could hear at least that much. The trees around her were almost black in the darkness, blending into the dark sky like smudges of charcoal._

_Something rustled in the bushes next to her, and the queen stifled a gasp. She should run. She knew she should run, but her legs were so, so heavy. Outrunning whatever it was wasn’t an option._

_An icy glow started to form between her shaking palms, but it was weak. Elsa tried to strengthen it, but it only sputtered and died. This was wrong. There was something very, very wrong. Fear quickened her heartbeat, and she felt like a mouse, watched by a cat. The queen continued to make her way through the woods, bushes and trees scratching at her now powerless hands. The smell of pine was overwhelming, and she almost felt an urge to gag. It reminded her of Loki._

_As though summoned by the thought, an unearthly chuckle sounded from the trees in front of her._

_“You tremble, little Elsa. Are you cold?”_

_The queen felt sick. She could recognize that voice anywhere, despite it being so new to her. Against all of her instincts, she pushed through the brush in front of her, and found herself in a large clearing._

_There was a symbol on the ground, circular and almost rune-like in appearance. An intricate design; it had been carved into the snow lightly, so that it was easily displaced by her feet when she walked forward, towards the most attention grabbing thing in the clearing._

_Behind the strange rune, there was a tower of white. Elsa thought, upon first glance, that it was made of dead trees. It was made of jagged, dry looking pieces, sticking out every which way, some sharp, some dull, some large, some small. It was only when she took a few cautious steps closer that she saw what it was truly constructed with._

_Bones. Thousands of human bones, bleached white by the sun, were melded together into a stomach twisting nightmare of a structure. It was nothing short of twisted, seeing so many unnamed bodies thrown together, reduced to another brick in the structure. If Elsa’s heart had beat quickly before, it was now oddly faint, as though it now recognized the imminent danger, and knew to be silent._

_“Do not look so sad, my queen,” a voice spoke from above Elsa, making her jump. In her terror, she’d almost forgotten she wasn’t alone._

_And now, she was too close to him to run. Slowly, the queen raised her eyes._

_Seated on top of the monstrosity, as though on a throne, was none other than Prince Loki. Only…it didn’t look like him at all. His skin was dark blue, and his eyes a bright red. On his head, he wore a pair of stag’s antlers like a crown._

_Seeing him like this wasn’t like seeing a perverted, insolent prince. When Elsa looked at him now, she felt a much more basic, deep inset fear. She was looking at something alien, unearthly. And there was nowhere for her to hide from it._

_“You know it’s better this way,” the smirking Loki continued, red eyes gleaming, “You mortals…crave subjugation.”_

_Elsa shook her head, backing away. What if Anna was a part of that mound? What if Kristoff was? Did Prince Loki not realize he was sitting on a throne of_ people?

               _He chuckled again, sending a shiver up the queen’s spine. She couldn’t run—her feet felt rooted to the ground. She was powerless as he stood up, staring down at her like a god as she cowered beneath his feet._

_“That’s right,” he growled, “Kneel for me. You will always kneel.”_

_Elsa whimpered, drawing her arms around her and starting to cry, “You monster…”_

_Loki laughed, a sound like a sword being sharpened, “Oh, sweetling. You brought the monster.”_

_An unearthly howl sounded, vibrations moving through the queen’s entire body and chilling her to the bone. The forest shook with it, as though even the trees feared the creature that brought a cry like that to Earth. No animal she knew of made a noise like that. Elsa covered her ears, sure that death would be upon her any moment…_

The queen jerked awake, sitting straight up in bed and breathing hard. She swallowed, taking a minute to survey her surroundings. She was in her room, twisted in a mass of sweaty blankets. It was still dark outside, and most of the castle was probably still asleep. It would probably be best if she went back to bed, as well. This was probably the doing of all the chocolate she and Anna had eaten earlier that night. It was just a nightmare. Just a silly, silly dream…

               Elsa gave a single sob, and debated whether she should wake her sister up. It had been a very long time since she’d had a nightmare that bad. It had all seemed so _real_. She didn’t like Loki, but now, if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she could even handle having him around anymore. What if he wasn’t sleeping? What if she _had_ brought a monster into the castle? What if he was wandering the halls right now?

               A distant howl from outside made the queen freeze, both mentally and physically. It was bloodcurdling, though not just because of its unearthly nature. It was the exact same sound from her dream.

               She didn’t sleep much more that night.

<br />

               “Good morning, Queen Elsa,” a soft voice greeted to the queen’s left, and she jumped, heartbeat already quickening. Pausing a moment first to get her bearings, she reluctantly turned to face Prince Loki, and nodded at him curtly in response before continuing walking. Looking at him was optional. Maybe if she ignored him enough he would leave sooner…

               “Are you all right?”

               Elsa stopped in her tracks as for a brief, strange moment, surprise overcame her fear. He sounded almost…genuine. As she turned to face him again, however, memories of the monster with blue skin and red eyes started to creep back to the front of her mind. Loki suddenly seemed much taller than he had before. The queen could clearly picture the horned crown on top of his dark hair. His skin was almost the same color as the skeletal throne he had sat on. She nervously turned her hands together, avoiding his eyes as he cocked his head to the side slightly, frowning at her.

               “I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” she answered, voice shaking, “Have you…seen Anna?”

               “She’s having breakfast with…Kristoff,” the prince answered, struggling for a moment to remember the blonde’s name, “I wanted to wait for-”

               Elsa didn’t look back as she left him hanging, the last words of his statement still on his lips. She didn’t feel the least bit guilty as she started to run.

<br />

               Anna wasn’t sure what she had expected to see of Elsa that morning, but it certainly wasn’t this.

               The queen practically tumbled through the doors to the dining hall, still in her nightgown, her hair looking like a bird’s nest, and white as a sheet. She looked on the verge of a panic attack. The redhead quickly stood up, concerned.

               “Elsa, what’s wrong?”

               Shaking her head, as though to convince herself of something, the queen started to make her way towards her seat, “N…nothing. Can I…talk to you later, Anna?”

               “Talk to me now,” the younger sister said quietly, making her way to Elsa, who was starting to cry into a dainty hand. She gently led the queen from the room, leaving an unhappy Kristoff to have breakfast alone.

               Anna shut the door behind them, “What’s wrong, Elsa?” she asked softly.

               The queen shook her head again, and took a deep breath before speaking, “Did you hear any…noises last night?”

               The redhead gave her sister a curious look, “Noises? No…I totally crashed after I left your room. What did they sound like?”

               “I’m not sure,” Elsa said shakily, “I’ve never heard anything like it before…” Just thinking about the sound made her want to build a wall of ice around the city. She didn’t want whatever had made the sound to touch a single one of her people.

               “You sure it wasn’t just Prince Loki snoring?” Anna joked, elbowing the queen playfully, but quickly growing somber once more when she saw the expression on her face. “That bad, huh?”

               “No, it’s…it’s about Loki,” the older sister lowered her voice, “Anna…I had a dream about him. That I heard the noise in. And I woke up and…I heard it again.”

               “Okay,” the redhead said calmly, “That’s creepy. What was the dream about?”

               Elsa felt her heartbeat starting to calm as she spoke, telling her sister about the throne of bodies, the prince’s twisted appearance, and the crown of stag’s horns. When she was finally finished relaying the entire thing, she felt not upset by Anna’s neutral expression, but comforted.

               “Okay, lesson learned,” she said, “Don’t eat chocolate before sleeping.”

               “Do you think it means anything?” the queen asked tentatively.

               “Nah,” Anna waved her hand dismissively, “Elsa, I think Loki royally screwed up interacting with you yesterday, and because of it, you had a weird dream about him. Don’t worry so much.”

               “But what about the noises?”

               “Pfft! It’s probably Sven crying about how he doesn’t have any friends besides Kristoff! Now let’s have a good day at the festival!” the redhead grinned, and her sister already felt herself feeling less afraid.

               Maybe she’d been too hard on Prince Loki.

<br />

               “Prince Loki!”

               The god turned around, and was surprised to see the queen making her way towards him. She was now fully dressed, with her hair elegantly braided, rather than in her nightdress, as he had last seen her. She looked prettier this way, he thought, though perhaps that was because now she didn’t look like she had seen a ghost.

               “M’lady,” he forced a tight lipped smile before going back to studying her. Why was she so eager to see him, all of a sudden?

               “I wanted to…apologize, for running off earlier,” Queen Elsa said formally, her posture rigid, hands clasped in front of her. Loki was still confused as to why she suddenly felt a need to account for his feelings.

               “It’s…no trouble, my queen,” she did, he supposed, look quite pretty with her hair like that. If she was Asgardian, he would even have considered courting her. With a shock, Loki realized for the first time that she had blue eyes, like ice.

               Her brow furrowed slightly, as though she could read his thoughts, and she started to walk away, without another word. Was she this rude to all of her guests? If that was so, then it was truly no wonder the place was so isolated.

               “I took a bath last night!” he called after her, and she stopped in her tracks, glaring at him over her shoulder. “I don’t smell like forest, anymore,” the god grinned crookedly, mischief seeming to radiate off of him. He knew he had gotten to her when she stopped frowning, expression softening ever so slightly as she looked him up and down.

               “How is your arm?” the queen asked suspiciously.

               He only answered with a wink, and disappeared around the corner before she could walk away. His arm was fine.

<br />

               Elsa pretended that Loki’s last wink hadn’t made her stomach jump. _How_ had she been terrified of him mere minutes before that had happened? Maybe she was more like Anna than she thought. Maybe men who were bad news were her ‘type’.

               _No_ , she thought as she made her way through the square, freshly fallen snow crunching underneath her shoes as she passed waving festival goers. Just because he was behaving…better today did not mean he was worthy of anything but her disdain. The prince had been horrifically rude to her the day before, and she was lying to herself if she pretended that her dream hadn’t disturbed her deeply. The way he had sat on that throne… _lounged_ on it, even. Like it wasn’t made of bodies…

               He hadn’t responded to her question when she’d asked about his arm. Did he _not_ understand that she knew what he was trying to do? The prince was clearly trying to convince her that his injury was worse than it actually was, so he could stay longer. Elsa wondered when she’d eventually have to put her foot down and make him leave.

               She needed to get angry. Perhaps if she slapped him a few more times, he’d go away.

               “Queen Elsa!”

               The queen turned to see a group of girls, two dark haired and one light, waving to her. Smiling at them, she made her way over to the giggling party, hoping this wasn’t about what she thought it was.

               “Hello, girls,” she greeted, and raised an eyebrow, deciding to ask about the elephant in the room, “Is this about what I think it is?”

               “Oh, you know Arendelle,” the more eager looking of the dark haired girls spoke for the group, “Gossip spreads fast. My queen, if you don’t mind us asking…who was the prince that gave you flowers yesterday? The one in green?”

               “Oh,” Elsa feigned disinterest, “That was…” she debated for a moment over whether or not he was worthy of having his name known, and, remembering his crooked grin, decided to go against her best instincts, “Prince Loki of Asgard.”

               The girl in front smiled slyly at the other two. The blonde one, wearing an expression that Elsa could only describe as dirty snow, spoke next.

               “I’ve never heard of Asgard,” she sneered, and Elsa gave her a warning look for her insolence.

               “Neither had I, until I met him. Apparently it’s very far away kingdom.”

               “Oooh,” the eager dark haired one spoke again, “Exotic. I heard…forgive me for my nosiness, your majesty, but I heard you struck him.”

               The queen fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was quickly deciding that her favorite of this group was the second dark haired one, who hadn’t spoken once yet. In fact, she appeared bored of the entire affair. Elsa silently agreed with her—Loki wasn’t that interesting.

               “Perhaps I did,” she said regally, “But it is none of the village’s concern whether or not I struck him. Queens are allowed to hit princes who don’t behave. So if any of you ladies ever need one put in his place…” Elsa trailed off, thinking of Hans and Anna. She sometimes felt a bit jealous of her sister; she would have loved to help Anna shove that monster back into the bay.

               “And, perhaps, you should consider the fact that you are speaking of royalty before you take matters of petty gossip to your queen,” a harsh voice said, making the group of three turn.

               Prince Loki was making his way towards them, looking more princely than usual. Elsa wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the interruption or only further irritated that he was here.

               “Apologies, Prince Loki,” the leader said, “We’ll just be going.” The blonde scowled at both the queen and the prince in green as the group left.

               “What was that for?” Elsa challenged, and Loki shook his head at her.

               “You cannot let them address you like that.”

               Anger sparked up inside of the queen, and she took a moment to calm the ice in her palms, “I shall let them address me however I want.”

               “You are their queen.”

               “ _And_ yours, if I remember correctly,” she said harshly.

               His gaze grew steely. Where the prince in green had gotten his sense of superiority, Elsa would never know.

               “I had a dream about you last night.”

               Loki looked at her in surprise, and the queen wanted to kick herself. _Why_ on Earth did she say that? It hadn’t even been a good dream! And even if it had been, she didn’t want him knowing! She _hated_ him!

               “Oh?” he asked, grinning flirtatiously, “And what was it about?”

               “I…” she started, but only found her voice catch in her throat, “Forget I said anything.”

               Before he could say anything more, Elsa dashed off to find her sister.

<br />

               Loki watched the queen flee smugly, leaning against a building. He’d known she would break sooner or later. She was just like the rest—all Midgardians seemed to have the notion that they were different, or ‘special’. They were all, in reality, much the same. Even the mysterious ‘Ice Queen,’ as he had heard the unhappy blonde mutter when she stalked past him.

               The fact that she was, or that all signs pointed to her being, completely ordinary, was perhaps what was frustrating the god so greatly. It was difficult to act convincing in a romance with a mortal sheep. Especially when it was a stubborn, insolent sheep. Loki was growing increasingly bored with the whole project. Hopefully, now that she seemed to be slowly warming up to him, he could turn his attention to more important things, like his next move towards Asgard. As soon as he had that figured out, he could leave this wretched village.

               _She was afraid this morning,_ a quiet voice spoke up from a corner of Loki’s mind.

               What did that mean, though? Most likely, she knew somehow that something was off about him. Some deep inset part of her knew she was speaking to a god, and that was why she was so put off by him. Wise girl.

               _She probably had a nightmare about you._

Loki inwardly scoffed. Most likely, she _did_ have a nightmare about him. He _was_ a monster, after all. Odin and Thor had seen that much. It was probably for the best if she was afraid of him; she’d be more compliant.

               _She was brave enough to slap you…_

               “Hey, Loki.”

               The god was lifted out of his internal debate by none other than the madman from the forest. Kristoff, he was apparently named. Loki’s mood wasn’t much improved by being addressed without a royal title. Even here, it seemed, he was unworthy of royalty.

               “Kristoff,” he responded coldly.

               “Elsa still avoiding you?” the blonde asked casually. Loki supposed it was a fair assumption to make—he couldn’t imagine he looked very happy at the moment.

               “It’s complicated.”

               “You know she’s talking to Anna about you right now.”

               “It seems,” the god said grumpily, “that she enjoys talking to everyone about me.”

               Kristoff snorted, and Loki glared at him.

               “Why do you talk to your pet?” he challenged, feeling like arguing.

               “I don’t talk _to_ him,” the mortal explained, as though talking to a child, “He talks to me. It’s a burden I have to bear, unfortunately.”

               Loki mentally sighed. He didn’t know where to start, with this one.

               “Did you hear the noises last night?” Kristoff continued, changing the subject.

               The god was caught off guard by the question. What ‘noises’ was he referring to? He’d heard a few animal cries in the distance, but nothing that seemed _too_ out of place. Though, he wasn’t overly familiar with Asgard’s wildlife…

               He decided to answer with a confused look, and the blonde clarified, “That weird howling noise. I heard it twice. Didn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard.”

               Oh. That noise. Now that Loki thought of it, he supposed it _did_ stand out from the rest. But he’d assumed it was normal! If it was strange enough that a local didn’t recognize it…

               No. Of course, it must be nothing, the god decided.

               “Now that you mention it, yes, I did hear it.”

               Kristoff nodded slowly, examining Loki with hazel eyes, “Elsa’s…pretty freaked,” he said quietly, not taking his eyes off of the god. The prince in green felt strangely exposed under his gaze, like he was a child and Frigga was confronting him about a lie.

               “…You think I should comfort her,” Loki observed, narrowing his eyes.

               The blonde made a dismissive gesture, “Hey, I just think it would help your case _way_ more than what you’re currently doing.”

               “Which is?”

               “Being creepy and overbearing.”

               The god bristled, suddenly aware of his magic in a way he hadn’t been a moment ago. If this one wasn’t careful, Loki would use it. He was speaking to a god, and should act like it.

               He examined Kristoff with a raised eyebrow, “You always seem to speak to royalty just as you would another person.”

               The blonde grinned, “That’s how we do things in Arendelle.”

<br />

               Anna crunched a snowball in her hands as she listened to her sister.

               “…and now he probably thinks I’m interested!” the queen finished. She was starting to become exhausted from all the worrying about Loki she’d been doing over the past few days.

               The redhead smirked, “Elsa, you sure do a lot of thinking about him.”

               “Yes,” the older sister explained, “Because _I hate him_.”

               “Uh, huh,” Anna said doubtfully, “You have dreams about him, you get nervous about everything you say around him, you even _apologized_ to him for running off too quickly.”

               “ _Anna_ …” Elsa moaned.

               “You have the _biggest_ crush on him!”

               “I think _you_ have a crush on him!”

               “I think you’re in denial. Go and talk to him!”

               The queen just shook her head in disbelief. Just earlier today, Anna had comforted her over a nightmare about the prince in green. Now, she seemed ready to arrange a wedding. Unbelievable.

               The truth was, she wasn’t really sure how she felt about Loki. She wasn’t very eager over the idea of _romance_ with him, but the idea wasn’t…completely repulsive, she supposed. He was still quite unnerving most of the time, though, especially after her dream. Prince Loki was, all things considered, not material for a king. He was a snake, and Elsa suspected that he was aware of this as much as she was. There was always that lingering thought, however, of _what if_ , that surrounded him. He was different. Something was off about him, and the queen, in spite of herself, was curious as to what that was.

               “He is too bold,” she finally said, not meeting her sister’s eyes. The redhead seemed fed up with her at this point, and huffed before walking away.

<br />

               Green eyes didn’t leave Elsa as she sought out Loki in the crowd again. Just as he’d thought—she was back. Kristoff gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, which the god ignored.

               “Hello again, my queen,” he greeted jokingly. She studied him, clearly sizing him up, but seemed less panicked than she had been when he’d last seen her.

               “…hello Prince Loki,” Elsa said, surprisingly pleasant.

               _This is a test,_ Loki realized. Whatever he did here would determine whether he stayed or not. It wasn’t an overly worrisome prospect.

               “Where were we?” the god prompted, eyes sparkling. He offered a small smile.

               The queen looked at the ground, “My dream about you,” she said quietly, “I had a dream and it…unnerved me.”

               “Dreams have a way of doing that to us,” Loki murmured, “Tell me?”

               Elsa hesitated, and the god waited. He had _all day_.

               “You sat on a throne of white,” she raised her eyes to his, “You wore a jagged crown. You spoke of rule.”

               He couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth or not. If she was lying, she’d chosen these words very carefully. Loki watched her with an intent gaze.

               “Was this a good dream?” he asked smoothly.

               The queen smiled dryly. Yes, she was definitely lying, at least partially.

               “I don’t know yet.”

               _Oh, you lovely little liar. We’ll have fun while I’m here._

               Determined to be chivalrous, Loki reached behind him and magicked up a flower, the same as the ones he’d offered her yesterday. Like a scene from a play, she hesitantly took it.

               “For you.”

               Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely smiling this time “Magic tricks?”

               The god grinned back, “Only the best.”

               “Teach me how?”

               A recollection suddenly hit Loki. Frigga conjuring up little animals for a delighted son, giggling at their tiny ears. In a few years, she would finally give into his constant pleas and teach him all she knew about the ways of magic. His mother had smiled at him then, in a way that, the god hated to admit, made him slightly homesick to think about.

               “Maybe sometime,” he said playfully.

               Elsa didn’t mention the fact that he was leaning on his bad arm. At the moment, it didn’t seem particularly important to her.

<br />

               The queen kept her eyes on the bloom Prince Loki had given her as she entered the castle. Today had gone…strangely well. He hadn’t said anything condemnatory during their conversations, and he’d been reasonably civil. Maybe he _did_ deserve a second chance. His arm was obviously completely healed, so if he started behaving badly again, she could throw him out with no sense of guilt whatsoever. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad a situation as she’d originally thought.

               “So how’s Prince Loki?” Anna asked smugly, and Elsa stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t even noticed her.

               The elder sister rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t matter. He’s the same as always.”

               “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” the redhead accused, positively beaming and dashing to her sister’s side. Elsa blushed and went back to staring at her flower.

               Anna gasped, “Did you guys kiss? Did he give you that flower? Have you finally seen him for the godly specimen he is?”

               The queen snorted, “No, yes, and I don’t think he’s _that_ good looking.” Although, now that she thought of it, she supposed she didn’t mind his overall appearance. He _did_ have nice cheekbones…

               “Who cares about good looks if he already knows your favorite flower? I can already hear wedding bells…”

               “No! Anna,” Elsa shook her head rapidly, blushing more by the second and giving the appearance that she was _far_ more embarrassed than she actually was, “It was just one day. He was really rude before, and-”

               “But he wasn’t rude today, now was he?” the redhead’s eyes twinkled.

               “Well, no, but-”

               “But nothing! Go and give him a goodnight kiss! You know you want to!”

               The queen balked, “A _kiss_? I’ve barely known him three days! And two of those days, I was convinced I hated him!”

               Anna sighed, exasperated, “All _right_. But at least go and find him. Bat your eyelashes, or whatever you queenly types do to flirt.”

               “I am _not_ flirting with him!” Elsa hissed, but her sister was already pushing her down the hallway. After a few meters, and a final shove, she left the queen alone, going back the way she came with a quick, but sincere, ‘Good luck’.

<br />

               Elsa stared at the door in front of her, coiling and uncoiling her hands around themselves. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there for, only that it had to end, and soon.

               _Just do it._

_But what if-_

_He’s just a person!_

_He’s a prince._

_And you’re a queen._

She supposed she couldn’t argue with that. Without further hesitation, the queen took a deep breath and knocked.

               After a few agonizing moments, the door opened. Loki grinned down at her, mercifully still in his clothes from that day. Elsa couldn’t imagine what she would have done if she’d come and he was wearing his _sleep clothes_.

               “Queen Elsa,” he crooned coquettishly, “What brings you here this hour of the night?”

               _Oh, gods,_ the queen thought, _Run. It’s not too late to run._

Going against her more skittish instincts, Elsa did her best to ignore her nerves and force herself to look him in the eye. He had large pupils, surrounded by a steely green. They reminded her of marbles.

               “I wanted to see you,” she said carefully, “Thank you for the flower.”

               He grinned crookedly, “Would you like another?”

               Before she had time to object, he had somehow, miraculously, produced another blossom from behind him. He held it out for her to see, and she laughed in amazement.

               “Do you have an entire bouquet under your clothes?” Elsa asked in wonder.

               Loki’s eyes sparkled dangerously, “You are free to check anytime you like, my queen.”

               The queen blushed and smiled, looking down at the floor in spite of herself. She knew she should reprimand him. He was _far_ out of line, but something stopped her from pointing it out.

               Elsa’s heart gave a little jump when she felt gentle fingers in her hair, carefully entwining the pale strands with the slightly wilted flower stem. She kept her eyes on the floor, though she was no longer blushing, so he could finish. When she saw him lean back against the doorframe again, the queen looked up to see him looking at her thoughtfully. He wasn’t smirking, but watching her thoughtfully.

               “Have a nice night, Prince Loki,” she said softly, head spinning.

               He nodded at her, “Queen Elsa.”

               She tried to keep from giggling as she walked back to her room.

<br />

               “Mia?” Elsa asked, staring at her reflection. She could have sworn the flower Loki had given her was bigger than the one currently in her hair, but she was probably mistaken.

               “Yes?” the servant asked wearily. The queen knew that her handmaiden wasn’t stupid. Most likely, she already knew _exactly_ what had taken place. Especially given that Elsa was still blushing slightly and seemed to have forgotten the nightgown in her arms.

               “Do you think it’s possible for someone to…change?”

               “Change?” Mia crossed her arms, studying the queen critically.

               “Yes, I mean…if you get an initial impression of someone, is it usually accurate?”

               Her handmaiden watched her with what could only be concern, “Is this about Prince Loki?”

               Elsa smiled sheepishly, touching the flower in her hair. _Loki’s_ hands had been there…

               “Yes.”

               Mia was silent for a very long moment, and when the queen lifted her eyes, she saw that she had been looking away, as well.

               “It is not my place to say, your majesty,” the servant finally said.

               The queen frowned, “Mia, you know I value your imput-”

               “But this is a personal matter, my queen,” Mia pushed, “It is your business, not mine.”

               “Perhaps not, but I want your advice, therefore, it _is_ your business,” Elsa insisted, “Please, Mia. I need a second opinion and today was very confusing. What do you think of Prince Loki?”

               Her handmaiden was silent again, clearly indecisive. Finally, when the queen was beginning to think she wasn’t going to respond, she spoke, so quietly that if Elsa hadn’t been listening, she didn’t think she’d have heard.

               “I think he’s a monster.”

               The queen’s blood instantly ran cold. Mia never spoke that way. Something was wrong.

               “ _What?_ ” she asked equally quietly. At first, Elsa couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but as the seconds ticked on and she waited for a response, it suddenly seemed more and more real.

               “He said things, your majesty, I…I didn’t want to interfere with your-” Mia looked ready to cry, and she held her crossed arms a little tighter around herself. It was a sickening sight—like finding a baby bird with its wings broken.

               “What things did he say?” Elsa demanded, voice suddenly sharp. The flower in her hair no longer seemed like a token of affection. It was a weight; like it had turned to stone in the mere duration of a conversation.

               Mia looked nervously to her queen, and the ruler of Arendelle stepped away from the mirror, towards her handmaiden.

               “Mia, you may or may not believe that this is your business to get involved in. But it is definitely _mine_. I need and want to know what he said to you, for my safety, for your safety, and for the kingdom’s safety. Now tell me, or I’ll have no choice but to command you.”

               The servant took a deep breath, “Your majesty, I told him you didn’t appreciate his advances…and he laughed.”

               “He laughed…” Elsa repeated stonily.

               “I…I told him he should show you more respect and he…he started coming towards me. He told me that my word meant nothing amongst royalty. They were valid points, your majesty. I was not as respectful of him as I could have been, and-”

               “He started coming towards you?” the queen interrupted the flood of words pouring from her servants mouth, and the room fell silent.

               “…yes.”

               Elsa was becoming angrier by the second, a wave of protectiveness hardening her heart and making her feel very, very stupid. Mia, sweet, sweet Mia, had been treated like an animal by Prince Loki, a man who _she_ had allowed into the castle. Not only that, but _she_ had also assigned her to look after him. A vision of the monster with blue skin and red eyes flashed through her mind, and the queen felt sick.

               “How close did he get to you? Did he touch you?” she demanded.

               “No, your majesty. And he…he got close enough that he had to jump back when Anna walked in.”

               The queen had heard enough. Without another word, she ripped the vile gift from her hair, throwing it away from her like it was a venomous snake. She sent a gust of ice after it that encased it for mere seconds before it hit the wall with a satisfying crash, completely shattering into a mess of frozen shards and petals.

               Elsa marched out of her chambers, down the hallway, and straight up to Loki’s door, her eyes like blue fire and her palms still frigid with rage. She didn’t hesitate in the slightest before hammering harshly on his door. No, not _his_ door. He was no longer her guest, therefore it wasn’t by any means still his.

               The queen was viciously delighted when the door finally swung open, and Prince Loki greeted her with that same, stupid smirk on his face. The damned rake probably thought she’d come to give him a goodnight kiss, she thought with a sneer, or something even more intimate. He certainly received a nasty surprise, then, when Elsa drew her hand back and slapped him across the face as hard as she possibly could. The crack that resulted resonated through the entire hallway, and the queen wondered if Mia had heard. She hoped so.

               “How _dare_ you?” she demanded savagely, taking a step towards him. Elsa was viciously delighted when he took a step back, and continued to back up as she approached.

               “Queen Elsa, I-”

               “How _dare_ you treat Mia so? How dare you treat her like she is beneath you?”

               Loki’s gaze hardened, “Is that what this is about? The servant girl?” he raised an eyebrow, suddenly appearing almost _bored_. It made Elsa want to strangle him.

               “She is more than you will ever be, you monstrosity of a prince. You are the scum of this Earth and I hereby banish you from Arendelle. If I see you within the boundaries of my kingdom again, I will take great care to ensure you lose your head. Do I make myself clear?”

               He smiled cruelly, shaking his head, “You are just like the rest, little Elsa. I hope you know that.”

               “You have ten minutes to leave the castle. Leave with only your own clothes.” She turned away from him and slammed the door behind her, knowing that her dreams would not be plagued by monsters that night.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys can guess who the three girls at the festival were based off of, I will be pleasantly surprised. It’s not Disney, but maybe at least one of you will get it. I’ll give you a hint: genderbent versions of some very Dracula like characters. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, no one guessed it? I’m a little shocked! Well, since I’m not exactly obligated to tell you, I think I’ll leave it a mystery.... If you are absolutely dying to know, inbox me and I’ll let you in on the secret. The girls are not major characters though, so don’t think on this too much.

               Elsa gazed at her reflection, her blue eyes steely with determination and her light hair down in its usual braid. After the events of the night before, she was more resolved than ever to make today’s event count. She would make Arendelle proud, now that the foolishness with Prince Loki was over.

               Mia handed her the last pieces of her armor; a pair of intricately designed, silver wrist gauntlets. They clicked into place perfectly, and the queen knew that no matter what rumors had been flying around the village the past few days, her people would see her as a monarch today, just as they had her mother and father, when each of them had gone on the Hunt.

               It was tradition, on the third day of an Arendelle royal’s one year anniversary festival, for the monarch in question to ride out into the mountains and slay a stag to bring back to the village. Elsa remembered her parents had done their hunt together, but given that she was without a king, she would be doing the task alone. Not only that, but the snow queen had decided she would be going without weapons.

               The queen knew that it would not likely be a difficult task. She’d nearly killed people with her magic before, and she doubted it would be difficult to slay a lone animal with them, yet a part of her was still deeply nervous. This was a sacred tradition, dating back as far as Arendelle itself, and perhaps even longer. Often a ruler’s popularity with the people was determined in part by their success on this hunt. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t rational, but there still seemed to be something that put people off about a king or queen who returned to the village empty handed.

               That queen wouldn’t be her, as long as Loki hadn’t managed to scare off all the deer in the woods on his way out. Elsa felt like a warrior; her blood was hot with anticipation. She had never been a hunter, but she loved her people and her kingdom more than almost anything else, and given that this was such a big part of her relationship with them, she was dead set on triumph. So ready to leave was she, that the queen managed to ignore the small voice in a back of her mind, asking a single, haunting question:

               _What about the noises?_

Elsa hadn’t heard them again that night, but in a way, the silence disturbed her more. Now that Loki was gone, and the howling had stopped, did that mean it _was_ his doing? Had she been dealing with someone more dangerous than she initially thought? In sending him away, had she made a powerful enemy for Arendelle? And, if whatever made that horrible cry was still out there, was she safe on her hunt today?

               Just at that moment, Anna entered the queen’s quarters (without knocking, as usual), looking decidedly less enthusiastic than she usually did.

               “Elsa! Wow, you look…like a warrior!” the redhead marveled, and Mia smiled warmly at her.

               “She does, does she not?” the servant agreed, “And a pretty one, too.”

               The queen was still staring at her reflection, lost in her thoughts. Silence fell for a short moment as the two girls awaited a response from Elsa that didn’t seem to be coming. Anna was the one who decided to break it— she had an idea of what might be on her sister’s mind.

               “I’m…sorry about Prince Loki,” the redhead said quietly. Elsa turned to her younger sibling, forcing a smile.

               “It wasn’t your fault, Anna. He was…troubled. I’m only sorry we didn’t kick him out sooner.”

               Anna shook her head, turning to Mia, “I was the one who insisted we keep him around, and he ended up being horrible to you. I’m sorry.”

               The servant shook her head, sending a gentle smile the princess’s way, “It is behind us. What is important is Queen Elsa’s hunt today.”

               “That reminds me!” the redhead exclaimed, turning to her sister again, “We need to go down to the armory and get you some-”

               “I’m not bringing weapons,” the queen interrupted her sister, and when she opened her mouth to protest, continued, “My powers have always been a defining piece of me as a ruler, Anna. I want to do this.”

               “But what about the thing making the weird noises? What if you run into Prince Loki?”

               “I can face both with my powers alone. Or do you doubt my abilities?” Elsa smirked, waving her fingers mischievously.

               The redhead rolled her eyes, the tension in the room quickly dissipating, “True. It’s hard to doubt the power of the girl who accidentally set an eternal winter on the whole kingdom.”

               The queen chuckled evilly, “You should have seen what I did with the flower Prince Loki gave me. It shattered like his poor heart.”

               Anna scoffed, “ _Please_. As if he even _had_ a heart.”

               Mia gently picked up Elsa’s cloak and handed it to the older sister, rather than throwing it as she usually did. The queen skillfully fastened it around her neck, and took one final glance in the mirror.

               “Make Arendelle proud, Queen Elsa.”

<br />

               Elsa barely noticed the applause of the people when she rode through the gates of the city, nor did she notice the flower petals drifting past her like snowflakes in a blizzard. All the queen saw ahead of her was the forest, the pine trees contrasting almost black against the white landscape. They promised mystery, and danger, and, above all, they reminded her of a certain prince in green who had always smelled like them…

               She shook her head. Focus was what she needed. Prince Loki was long gone. He was a rude delinquent and there was no reason to be thinking of him. This was _her_ moment.

               “Elsa?” an almost inaudible voice called out to her, and the queen barely realized she had heard it in time, bringing her horse to a skidding halt. She was shocked to find that a voice so small, so unsure, had come from none other than her sister, standing at the very outskirts of the crowd.

               “Anna?” the queen frowned, slightly apprehensive of what could cause her sister to behave so out of character. She had seemed happy a moment ago…

               “Just…be safe.”

               Elsa’s brow furrowed, and she felt worry start to turn her stomach, her breath quickening in a way that was all too familiar. Anna was worried. _Anna_. Usually, the older sister was the one who was overly cautious, examining a situation from every possible angle to ensure that no scenario of failure had gone unaddressed. Usually, _she_ was the one who worried. Now that their roles were reversed, the queen couldn’t help but wonder if, in her eagerness to succeed, she had missed something important.

               “Of course,” she finally answered. Elsa was already, in reality, detaching herself from the conversation, paying attention not to the concern in her sister’s eyes, but the meaning behind it.

               The wind was picking up, sending a few stray wisps of the queen’s hair free of their braid, to be beaten by the element as her blue eyes found the forest again. It was time. Elsa looked to Anna one last time to find that she was now smiling up at her elder sister, offering a wave more cheerful than her previous statements. She said nothing more as the queen of Arendelle took off at a gallop towards the woods, she and her horse, Stella, eventually fading to white amongst the rest of the icy landscape.

<br />

               Snow crunched under Stella’s hooves as Elsa made her way through the trees. It was a windy day, and the sky remained a blank greyish color; it didn’t put her in a festival mood at all, though perhaps that was simply because of recent events. She was happy that Prince Loki was gone, but when she considered all of the untied ends; the strange noises, Anna’s worry, the mystery surrounding his identity, the queen couldn’t stop a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite…right.

               A gust of wind suddenly rustled the forest, sending a few flakes of snow fluttering from where they had settled on the needle covered branches and flying towards a new destination. Her cape flapped behind her, and Elsa suddenly realized how ridiculous it was to be wearing purple when she was trying to hunt. Suddenly irritated by royal obligations, she quickly magicked a thin coat of ice to cover the light, violet fabric. It wasn’t flawless camouflage, but it was something. Now, as for the hunt…

               Stella whinnied, pawing the ground nervously, and the queen frowned. She had never been one to startle…

               The mare whinnied again, though this time with a little more volume, and tossing her head as she did so, fighting against her reins. Elsa stroked the creature’s mane soothingly, cooing in the animal’s ear.

               “Shh, girl. Woah.”

               The horse rapidly quieted, and the queen spurred her forward with nothing more than a nervous look from side to side. It was probably nothing, she decided. Wolves were not uncommon in these woods. Perhaps a pack had passed through here, or a rogue bear had awoken early from hibernation.

               Elsa didn’t notice the figure watching her from atop a nearby cliff.

<br />

               As the day went on, the queen quickly grew more and more distraught, though not from her lack of success hunting. Rather, it was because of the subtle signs that seemed to keep following her, nagging at her fear that something was wrong.

               If anything, the first thing that caught her attention was the unusual quiet of the woods. Arendelle’s forests were nothing like Corona’s in their diversity of wildlife, but the mountains held a life all their own, and usually were filled with birds, rodents, and the occasional reindeer herd.

               On its own, however, that wasn’t enough to warrant concern. Despite the ringing, eerie silence, Elsa supposed it was rational to assume that, due to the wind, the animals sensed a storm approaching, and were already taking shelter.

               But then there had also been the fact that Stella had remained unusually skittish throughout the duration of the day, and, as the hours passed, had grown more and more frantic. Once, she even tried to throw Elsa off, and when the queen tried to soothe her, bolted without direction for a good solid minute before she could be slowed to a trot. For her entire time as queen, Elsa had held complete control over Stella, and the horse had obeyed her every command without question. They had a relationship that was as trusting as if it had formed over the course of years, and Elsa would much rather question her surroundings than her beloved mare.

               However, what _really_ had succeeded in striking fear into the ice queen’s heart hadn’t been the atmosphere, or Stella’s behavior. It was the undeniable, suffocating feeling that she was being watched. She felt eyes on her back, wherever she traveled, and the deeper she got into the woods, the more the queen came to realize that when she walked, something else walked, as well. A few times, she brought Stella to a halt suddenly, to see if she could catch whatever it was, but all that greeted her ears in these instances was a stifling silence, disrupted only by the wind. Elsa started to look behind her almost as often as she watched the path in front of her, but she never spotted anything, and the only footprints to be seen were her own. And so, with nervous sparks of ice erupting from her palms now and again, the queen pushed on, despite her determination to succeed quickly transforming into an urge to return home, and a sickening anger at herself for not bringing any weapons.

               A howl sounded from the mountaintop nearest her and Elsa made a decision that suddenly seemed obvious. There was something wrong in these woods, and she wasn’t going to face it alone, weaponless. She had barely turned around, however, when she heard it; a deep, gurgling, sickening snarl. And it came from directly behind her. Before she had time to wonder how the creature had moved so fast, however, something even more terrible happened; it spoke. Or, at least, that’s what Elsa thought it did.

               “ _Loki’s princess…tell us where the Frost Giant hides.”_

               The language was foreign to her, and was a mixture of grunts and clicks that she doubted she could ever understand, even if she learned it from a book. The thing’s voice sent shivers down her spine and it took all that she had to calm Stella, tightening the reins more than she’d ever done before in a borderline cruel fashion.

               “ _Speak, Midgardian bitch! Or pay the price!”_

The thing sounded more aggressive now, and the urge to look behind her, to face it, was suddenly overwhelming. It had moved from the top of the mountain to directly behind her in the blink of an eye—there was no outrunning it. And Elsa knew, somewhere deep down, that this was an ‘it’, she was facing, not a person. There was no chance a person could move that rapidly, could speak in such a way. This was the creature that had haunted her dreams with its unearthly howling. She could not run, so the only thing to do was…

               Turn around.

               The creature had a body like a person’s, but…not. Its skin was a sickly green color, and it looked to her almost like it was wearing armor, though she couldn’t be sure if it truly was clothed, or if the plates of metal were somehow _fused_ with its skin. The thing’s face, however, was what truly sent Elsa’s blood running cold. It didn’t have a mouth, but an almost parrot-like beak holding a limited amount of human looking teeth. As its beady eyes flitted over her, the queen knew that this was not a friendly being.

               It seemed to grin at her, its mouth dripping what was either venom or saliva onto the snow. The queen’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, and she could feel adrenaline flowing through her veins as it crouched down, and lunged.

<br />

               Loki surveyed the landscape beneath him from where he stood on the mountaintop, eyes meeting nothing but trees, as far as he could see. In Arendelle’s direction, the forest stopped, but only to make way for an even bigger obstacle: ocean. The god had no intention to travel _that_ way with such primitive technology available. And, now that he was ‘banished’ from Arendelle, obtaining transport was unlikely anyway.

               He sighed, taking a moment to dismount his stolen horse and think. Where to go from here? He was trapped in the middle of nowhere, in a frozen wasteland filled with primitive savages, and it was unlikely anyone was coming to rescue him. This land was, ironically, quite like Jotunheim in that way. Loki scoffed, picturing how satisfied Odin would be to see him in such a state. Even Thor would likely have tried to tell him it was ‘good for him’ or some similar lie. Perhaps the god didn’t belong anywhere. Perhaps he had been meant to die, cast out on a frozen rock. Though it wasn’t too late to fulfill that prophecy….

               Loki glanced down, the icy wind ruffling his hair as he calculated the height of the cliff in front of him. It had to be, at the very least, a 200 foot drop this way. The mountainside here was not sloping, like the way he had climbed up, but jagged and harsh. It looked as though it could severely hurt or kill someone of even Loki’s biology, despite the thick layer of snow at the bottom.

               The god wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling a sudden urge to jump. It would be easier, would it not? He wouldn’t have to try to find a way out of this mess…and, if he was honest with himself, he saw little point in trying to get off of Midgard, anyway. Loki could quickly feel his fury at Odin ebbing, to be replaced by a bitter, crushing emptiness that hurt far, far worse. He felt…alone. He hadn’t a clue what he was supposed to be doing and there was no one anywhere who could help him, or who cared about him.

               It was, to be quite frank, pathetic. It would be so much simpler to jump…

               A scream of pain, coupled with a yowl of triumph in the distance mercifully snapped Loki out of his thoughts, and he turned to his left, studying the direction it had come from.

               That had sounded similar to the howl he had heard the other night—the one Elsa had been concerned about. He had already had his suspicions that someone could be looking for him, but it had seemed a foolish assumption to make at the time…

               If they were this close already, he had two options, and he had to choose one quickly. Either Loki had to run, and run far, or he had to confront them now, and either defeat them or make a deal.

               The god looked out over the cliff again at the vast woods surrounding him. Fleeing truly wasn’t a very viable option when he’d been banished from the only settlement in the near vicinity. His only true option was confrontation.

               Making up his mind, Loki swung himself back onto the stolen horse and gave the beast a vicious kick to the sides, galloping back down the mountainside.

<br />

               Elsa gritted her teeth against the roaring pain in her back, trying to clear her head in time to block the monstrosity hurtling towards her. Shaking her head, she braced herself against the rock she had been thrown against, and decided she could use it as an advantage. Her lip curling in a snarl, she sent another blast of ice at the creature, allowing it to form dagger-like, fine points as it formed a wall between them.

               The creature didn’t seem extremely bright, and wasn’t able to anticipate very well the several, smaller points of ice she sent its way; the queen was repulsed to see that it’s blood was black and tarlike. Whatever the monster lacked in intelligence, however, it made up for in perseverance. Elsa’s back throbbed and she could feel her energy quickly ebbing as the creature mercilessly smashed and climbed its way through her walls.

               “ _Don’t be afraid to ask for help!_ ” her sister’s words from months ago echoed in her mind. She had been organizing a treaty then—who knew that the saying would still apply?

               “HELP!” she cried. The thing had reached her now, and as a last ditch effort she tried to summon more ice to her palms, to no avail. A few futile snowflakes left her fingertips and she tried and failed to get up and run before the creature’s hands closed around her neck.

               The queen pulled at its hands, but their grip was iron, as the rest of its body seemed to be. She scrambled and kicked and twisted through the pain in her ribs, to no avail. The thing seemed to grin at her with its parrot-like jaws.

               “Hey! Monster!”

               Elsa knew that voice anywhere. But _surely…_

               The queen, praying her neck wouldn’t snap, held on for dear life as the creature turned around. Standing at the edge of the trees, looking just as put together as she had ever seen him, was none other than Prince Loki.

               “That’s right,” he grinned sadistically at the creature, “I’m the one you want, right?” Elsa wanted to scream as he spread his arms, still smiling easily, “Come and get me.”

               Before she could anticipate it, the queen felt herself hurtling towards the ground, landing in the snow with a thump and a gasp of pain. Ignoring the fact that she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, Elsa snapped her head up as fast as possible, only to see the thing hurtling straight towards an unconcerned Loki.

               “LOOK OUT!” she shouted, though he didn’t seem to hear. The queen could do nothing but stare in horror as the creature continued forwards and…ran straight through its target.

               Elsa blinked. Surely she had missed something. Had it _eaten_ him?

               “Missed me,” a smug voice teased from behind her, and the queen turned around as best she could to see, once again, the prince in green, grinning at the monster like it was nothing more than a joke.

               Elsa wasn’t quite sure whether she thought this reassuring or not.

               The monster howled with rage and she ducked as it lunged towards Loki, who again disappeared in a flash of green, sending the thing headfirst into a tree. The queen, seeing her chance, scrambled to her feet and summoned all the magic she could. Grinding her teeth, she sent it straight to the back of the creature’s head.

               The monster screamed as its skull was impaled by a massive icicle, sending a large gush of black blood splattering over the surrounding snow as, with a final gurgling snarl, the thing collapsed, along with the exhausted queen.

<br />

               Loki stared at the spent queen, now on collapsed to her knees in front of the dead Chitauri. For one of the first times in his life, he was speechless.

               What in the name of the Allfather was a _Chitauri_ doing on Midgard? They usually travelled in packs—so where was this one’s mothership? And why did it not have any weapons? Had it simply gone rogue—a glitch in the system?

               What if the Chitauri were here looking for _him_? The thing could have simply attacked him because he’d had its attention, but the coincidence that one was here, in this tiny village, was simply too much to ignore. If word had gotten out about his leaving Asgard, perhaps they were looking for an alliance, or an auction item, or worse. _Why_ they would want such a thing was beyond Loki, but he supposed a primitive race such as theirs didn’t necessarily need an intricate motive when they did anything.

               And besides that, there was…Elsa.

               The god’s gaze moved to the dead warrior, the icicle protruding from the back of its skull. Chitauri were not known for their durability…they were just as susceptible to damage as typical mortals were, but to send an icicle straight through the back of its skull, especially given the obstacle of armor, was impressive, to say the very least.

               In fact, it was almost as impressive as the fact that she had produced the ice with her bare hands. If someone had suggested that the queen was anything other than an ordinary Midgardian a few hours ago, he’d have laughed in their face. How had he been so blind, not to see a fellow magic user right in front of him?

               Loki cleared his throat, and the queen jumped, looking startled when she turned around and took him in with wide eyes.

               “I suppose I won’t be needing this,” he tossed his stolen sword to the side. His words were jesting, but in actuality, he was still regarding her quite thoughtfully.

               “You stole it,” she accused, voice wavering.

               The god grinned guiltily, “Along with three daggers and a horse. Which is good, considering yours seems to have left.” He looked around the clearing, confident in his assumption. It was impossible to travel this far in a day by foot.

               Elsa didn’t answer, and instead turned to look at the Chitauri again, “What…what was that?” Her voice hitched slightly at the end, making Loki’s brow furrow as he took a step closer and she twisted to watch him again. Blue eyes pierced green.

               “It was a…Chitauri,” he explained, deciding, for some inexplicable reason, to tell the truth. An image of Thor and his mortal flashed through the god’s mind, which he quickly repressed.

               “What is that?” she pushed, voice a little more steady now.

               “They are…” he sighed, “It’s difficult to explain.” How did one explain the concept of multiple worlds to someone who barely knew anything about their own?

               The queen’s gaze hardened, “Try.”

               The god shook his head at her stubbornness, “I will tell you when we’re away from here. There could be more-”

               “No, you will tell me now! How do I know you won’t disappear, like you did before?” she exclaimed, looking slightly panicked.

               Loki laughed humorlessly, not believing what he was hearing, “My dear, you _sent_ me away-”

               “Not _that_ , you arrogant fool! I mean what you did where you disappeared into thin air! You did it twice!”

               _Oh…_ Loki thought. He had forgotten that things like that were extraordinary to Midgardians. Although, he would have expected a mortal with Elsa’s talents to accept it rather quickly.

               He voiced this to her, “I would have expected that someone of your talents would be familiar with the art of trickery.”

               Fear suddenly came over her face like a dark cloud, and Loki felt a twinge of sympathy for her as she stared at her palms in horror.

               “I…um…” the queen’s voice shook again, and the god realized with alarm that there were tears forming in her eyes. Was it possible that she was ashamed of her magic? Did her family know about this power she possessed? He felt another twinge of sympathy, knowing the feeling all too well.

               “No, no, no,” he said softly, grabbing her by both shoulders as she tried to get up, “Don’t do that. Are you hurt?”

               She shook her head frantically, fighting back tears but unable to stop a single sob from escaping her as she tried to pull away again. This time, he let her.

               “Leave me be,” Elsa turned away, looking more lost than ever as she took a few steps away from him, hugging her arms close. Her figure was quite small, against the trees, but for once she looked not like an ant, but something more fragile and beautiful. She clearly had nowhere to go, and Loki watched her a moment with pity, choosing his next words carefully.

               “Elsa, please.”

               She stopped in her tracks, raising her head and turning to face him.

               “ _What_?” she whispered.

               The god closed the distance between them, casting a wary glance towards the Chitauri body before looking Elsa straight in the eyes again.

               He sighed in resignation, “The Chitauri are a warrior race of people. Not completely alive, not completely machine. They work in groups, and are typically directed by one higher leader. Usually, they carry weapons. We were lucky today that this one didn’t seem to follow that pattern.”

               The queen studied him in surprise. _‘We,’_ he had said.

               “Are they…from Asgard?” she asked tentatively, and Loki looked at the body again, thinking.

               “No, they…we don’t see a lot of them even in Asgard. They typically reside somewhere more distant than even my kingdom.”

               “So why was one here?”

               Loki licked his lips, “I don’t know,” he lied, “Are you well enough to ride a horse? Mine is tied up not far from here, and it’s going to start getting dark, soon.”

               Elsa frowned at him, “I think you mean _my_ horse that you stole from _my_ kingdom. Which _you_ were supposed to be banished from. What were you doing out here, anyway? You should have been halfway to Asgard by-”

               “For the _last time_ ,” the god rolled his eyes, annoyed, “ _Are you hurt_?”

               The queen winced as she shook her head, “My back—I got thrown against a rock, but I don’t feel like anything was broken.”

               Loki nodded, not fully convinced. Although he supposed, with her powers, it was possible that she healed faster than the average mortal.

               “Let’s go then. We don’t know how many are out here,” he silently scolded himself, leading Elsa into the trees.

               He needed to stop this _‘we’_ business.

<br />

               “You’re very bold,” Elsa pointed out as they reached the chestnut horse Loki had stolen, tied up to a tree. She had a thousand questions, still, but the first she intended to ask was why he presumed she wasn’t going to remove his head as soon as they returned to Arendelle.

               “So I’ve been told,” he drawled, pale fingers deftly undoing knotted leather. It was almost mesmerizing, and the queen had to mentally shake herself before she answered.

               “I could have you killed as soon as we return,” she persisted. Her back truly was starting to hurt.

               The prince turned to face her, the now freed horse’s reins in one hand, “That is true.” His features were unreadable.

               “I should,” Elsa hugged her arms close, “After how you treated Mia.”

               Loki studied her, and the queen could almost feel the weight of it on her, like two green eyes were pressing in on her from all sides, watching her every move.

               “Do you want front or back?” he gestured towards the horse, and Elsa felt her stomach give a nervous flutter. Until this point, she hadn’t considered the fact that there was only one horse to carry them both back. If she sat in front, she’d be far less comfortable, but it would also look less like she’d been rescued when they returned to Arendelle. If she sat in back, she’d be comfortable, but her arms would be around him and her pride would suffer.

               “…back,” the queen decided. She was exhausted, and was starting to remember how feeble pride was compared to safety.

               “Very well,” the prince swung himself into place with ease, and for a brief, horrifying moment, Elsa wondered if he was going to ride off without her, however, this worry was soon quelled, as he reached a hand down to help her up. She winced at the strain on her back, but as soon as she was on, knew she’d made the right choice.

But now was the tricky part; the queen’s hands hovered awkwardly near Loki’s sides, and she was still straining to keep as far a distance between their bodies as possible.

               His shoulders hunched up and down in a sigh in front of her, and when he spoke, Elsa could almost hear the eye roll in his voice.

               “My _queen_ …”

               “Sorry!” she interrupted a bit too loudly, quickly wrapping her arms around the prince’s middle and inching closer to him on the saddle, “I just, uh-”

               Loki shook his head, holding up a hand, “No matter, let’s go.”

               Another benefit to sitting in back, Elsa realized, was that there was no way for him to know she was blushing.

<br />

               After a few minutes of riding silently in the quickly fading light, Loki broke the silence.

               “So why was the queen of Arendelle so far from her kingdom, today?”

               Elsa sighed, currently fighting the temptation to rest her head on his shoulder, and grateful for the distraction, “This festival, to celebrate my one year coronation anniversary…on the third day it is tradition for the royal in question to slay a stag to return to the village.”

               “And you left with _no weapons_?” he asked incredulously.

               The queen nodded, then, remembering he couldn’t see her, answered, “Yes. I thought I could do it with only my powers.”

               Loki let out a single, breathy laugh, likely remembering the fate of the ‘Chitauri’ monster, “I doubt you would have failed.”

               “My turn,” Elsa said after a moment of silence, “Why were you there today? Why did you help me?”

               The prince was silent for a long time, but finally he responded quietly, “That’s two questions.”

               There was a pregnant pause.

               “Fine,” Loki snapped in a voice edged with razors, “I was there today because I am not eager to return to Asgard. I am not sure why I helped you.”

               Elsa was quiet a moment before giving the prince’s middle a gentle squeeze, “I…” she started uncertainly, “I banished you. It would have been easier to leave me.”

               The prince muttered something to himself in another language, and the queen didn’t bother asking him to translate it. The two continued their ride in silence the next few miles, and Elsa ended up giving into impulse and resting her head on Loki’s back when they were moving slower. He smelled good, she noted, but strange. There was almost a sparkling quality to it; bubbly, like nothing she’d ever smelled before. It was luxurious and alien. Just as the queen felt herself drifting off, however, a frightening thought occurred to her that jolted her wide awake.

               “Do you know the way back?” she asked anxiously. The forest was getting dark around them quickly, and Elsa wanted to slap herself for waiting so long to pose the question.

               “Make a right at the 501st tree.”

               The queen was horrified. Who _knew_ how deep they were in the forest by now? How far were they from the correct path? They could be trapped here for days, or weeks, or-

               “I’m kidding. Yes, I know the way back,” he reassured gently, making Elsa want to hit him. She sighed in relief.

               “Don’t _do_ that!” she scolded.

               “Yes, my queen,” Loki said smugly.

<br />

               The rest of the journey to Arendelle passed in mostly silence. While both parties had dozens of questions for each other, they were also equally tired, and so most inquiries remained unspoken for the time being. It wasn’t an unpleasant silence, Loki decided; he felt strangely more content in this moment, alone in the woods with this mortal girl, than he had for a very long time. The god was trying his best to repress the warmth that Elsa’s arms around him brought to his chest, but his exhaustion quickly won that battle. It was easier to be content for a night, even though he knew it was foolish.

               He hated to admit it, but suddenly Thor’s romance with that mortal girl didn’t seem so far-fetched.

               _You’re being stupid_ , he reminded himself, _It’s late at night, you’re lonely, and she’s throwing herself at you like a common harlot. This is obviously-_

_No. This isn’t like that._

_She’s a fucking mortal. You’ve heard the words straight from her mouth: you barely know each other. She is not worthy._

_She’s the only path to take at the moment. I have no other options._

_The Chitauri are looking for you._

_They will find me wherever I go._

And that settled that argument for the time being. Loki was out of options, save for Elsa. Until a better one presented itself, this was where he was staying. If the Chitauri were coming for him, he’d rather spend his last days of peace like that—in peace.

               Plus, he…didn’t entirely mind the queen’s company. Not anymore.

               _Oh, here we go…_

Slowly, the trees started to thin out, just as the god remembered they had when he’d first crash landed here, revealing Arendelle against the night sky, the sea gleaming by its side in the moonlight. Bringing the horse to a stop, he turned around as best he could to notify Elsa, who, he was fairly certain, had slept for the last few miles.

               “Elsa,” he said curtly, “We’re here.”

               “Mm?” her voice was sleepy as she lifted her head off his shoulder, “Wha—Oh!” Loki felt hands scrambling around his middle as the startled queen took in her surroundings, “Sorry, I…wow, it’s gotten dark out.”

               “I know,” Loki said simply, trying not to grin at her embarrassment. She really was, in many ways, just like her sister. “You’ve been sleeping the past few miles.”

               “What?” she asked quietly, cautiously wrapping her arms around him again, “You should have woken me up.”

               “Why?” he scoffed, “For the stimulating conversation?”

               The god didn’t have to look behind him to know that he only was going to receive a glare in response. Giving the horse’s sides a rough kick, Loki brought them down the rest of the mountainside to the city. He paused just outside the gates.

               “They will talk, you know,” he pointed out.

               “I’ve had worse.”

               That piqued Loki’s interest—he wondered if this had anything to do with his earlier suspicions that she’d been shamed for her powers, but he didn’t push the subject. Not wasting any more time with further dialogue, he guided them into the city.

               Mercifully, most of the villagers seemed to be already in bed, but there were still a few people (unfortunately, including three meddlesome girls Loki recognized from the day before) in the streets. There was a bit of pointing, and words whispered behind hands, but both the god and the ice queen held their heads high, though Loki was tempted to lash out at a few of the more obnoxious ones, and give them something to _really_ talk about.

               “Elsa!” Anna called, rushing at them through the castle gates, when they were near enough. She looked Loki up and down with astonishment, then to her sister in disbelief.

               “You’ve got a _lot_ of nerve coming here, you know,” she accused, turning back to Loki, “After what you did to Mia-”

               “Anna,” the queen said quietly, but firmly, “Don’t. He saved me.”

               “ _Saved_ you?” the redhead balked, not believing her ears, “From what? Are you alright? Where’s Stella?”

               “My back hurts, but that’s all,” the queen said, “A…monster attacked me in the woods. After I was knocked off of her, Stella bolted. Loki saved me. He took me back here.”

               The redhead looked Loki up and down, along with the stolen weapons and horse. The god stared back at her defiantly.

               Realizing that the stolen items didn’t matter as much as the fact that her sister was back safe, Anna looked to the queen with a sympathetic smile.

               “So no success on the hunt, then?”

               There was no audible answer from Elsa behind him, but Loki guessed she shook her head no. The redhead then helped her sister dismount, avoiding looking at him the whole time.

               “What kind of a monster was it?” the younger sister asked.

               “I’m…” to his surprise, the queen glanced at Loki before answering, “I’m not entirely sure,” she lied, “But I know it’s what was making the noises at night.”

               Anna didn’t look entirely satisfied, and she threw an accusing glance at the god, who at that point decided to intervene.

               “It was a Chitauri,” the redhead looked surprised to see him speak, and he marveled at how cold she was to him today, compared to some of their first days together, “I have seen them in Asgard before. They are very rare, even where I come from. They usually travel in packs, so my guess is that this one went rogue and somehow found its way here.”

               “He’s telling the truth,” Elsa, for some inconceivable reason, backed up his lie, and her sister nodded slowly, “Prince Loki of Asgard shall, from this day forward, no longer be banished from Arendelle.” The princess regarded her older sister intensely for a moment, but, after a bit of silent communication, left towards the castle.

               Once she was gone, Loki’s lips twitched, “Thank you, your majesty.”

               “Call me Elsa,” the queen said serenely, staring up at him, “Will you be staying in Arendelle, then?”

               The god regarded her thoughtfully, “What have I got to lose?”

               Elsa laughed, “A kingdom? Doesn’t Asgard need its prince?”

               The words hurt, though Loki knew they hadn’t been intended that way. He laughed bitterly, “I think they can stand just a bit of time without me.”

               An awkward silence fell. It was strange, he marveled, how the two of them had journeyed in silence for hours, just earlier that day, but now a few seconds unfilled with conversation made him want to cringe. Unable to sit still in the quiet anymore, Loki swung gracefully off the horse, handing the reins out to Elsa.

               “Would you like your horse back?” he teased, grinning at her.

               She smiled back shyly, the reflections of thousands of stars in her eyes, “I’d like my sword and daggers, as well,” she said, holding out a hand.

               Loki let out a low whistle, “ _That_ much is going to cost you.” Even as he said it, he was taking the items in question from his belt.

               The queen raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

               “Yes, quite a lot, I’m afraid,” he jested, “Though we thieves are open to barter on prices.”

               Elsa nodded, looking a tad suspicious of his game, “Name your price, then.”

               “A royal bed and a goodnight kiss would do.”

               “Hmm…” the queen pretended to think, “How about a royal horse and a free pass home?”

               “Oh dear, not quite enough, I’m afraid. We can skip the goodnight kiss, if you desire, and I’ll take the bed on its lonesome.”

               She took the daggers and the sword from his hands, looking superior, “Done. You may stay with us. As long as you don’t mind being _alone_ in your bed.”

               _One thing at a time_ , Loki thought grumpily.

               He laughed, “Not an issue,” and Elsa looked satisfied with the response.

               “Well,” she said quietly, suddenly looking self-conscious again, “Goodnight, Prince Loki. Same room as before, if you like.”

               The god returned the sentiment, and was watching her go when a last thought occurred to him.

               “Elsa!” he called after the queen, and when she turned to face him, added, “Just Loki is fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the wait! I hope this extra long chapter was worth it, though! Please review to let me know your thoughts, etc, and make sure to check out this story’s playlist on 8tracks if you haven’t already! Thank you for all the support, and see you next time!


	6. Chapter 6

               When Loki woke up, he was alone in his chambers. Mia wasn’t there to greet him, as she had the other days of his stay. The god wondered if she was with Elsa, or if the queen was already awake. As much as he hated typical Midgardian technology, he sorely missed how easy it was to tell time with it. Although, from the fact that the sun was barely peeking out over the mountains, shining through his window, Loki assumed it was still fairly early. Squinting against the light and swinging himself out of bed, he noticed that a layer of snow had fallen the previous night. Good. If the Chitauri body was covered, there was less of a likelihood that its counterparts, wherever they currently were, would find him. At least, not as quickly as they usually would.

               Running his fingers through his hair, the god pondered the previous day’s events. Elsa knew about his magic, and she’d seen the Chitauri plain as day, and yet she still invited him back to live with her, even after how he’d behaved towards her favorite servant.

               What was her angle? She’d seemed suspiciously…affectionate last night. And Anna had behaved just as cold as her sister had warmly. The queen had lied to the princess, and likely, her entire court, about a threat that could destroy her kingdom. And _then_ , as if all that hadn’t been enough, she’d _invited_ the very bringer of this threat to live with her.

               Loki knew Elsa was more intelligent than he’d initially thought, so why was she behaving so…trusting towards him? He’d say she was smitten, after her behavior last night, but that was jumping to conclusions, wasn’t it? If she was playing games, he was ready to play, and win.

               _You behaved just as affectionately._

               The god inwardly scoffed. It didn’t matter what he felt; never had, never would. Nevertheless, he found himself hoping that it mattered at least a little bit to Elsa.

<br />

               Throughout the day, the queen dodged Loki. Elsa, now that she was rested and her back didn’t hurt so badly anymore, could look at the events of last night objectively. Because she still had little information about the Chitauri and why they were in Arendelle, she elected to tiptoe around the topic for the time being. Because, if she admitted it to herself, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the truth of why exactly the monster had been in the forest that day. Anna had been distraught when she’d found out they had left the body behind, but she didn’t seem to be pressing the topic further, and instead had sunk into a steely silence.

               Mia, strangely, hadn’t minded Loki’s return as much as Anna had. The servant had distanced herself from the issue, not taking sides when Elsa brought up the topic and remaining mysteriously objective. When the queen asked her about it, the servant merely explained, “I only care about your well being, your majesty.” Elsa decided she would accept this philosophy as the best she could hope for from Mia. She could hardly expect her to simply get over how the prince had treated her, and was still debating whether she should demand he apologize. One of the more selfish parts of the queen’s mind told her that this was a very bad idea, however.

               But, she did decide to heed just a little bit of Anna and Mia’s advice, and that was to do her best to avoid becoming a lovesick fool. And, in order to do that, she needed to keep her head on her shoulders. Falling too quickly for someone was dangerous, as Hans had proven to her. The queen was going to be very, very careful in determining her feelings for Loki. One night on horseback together couldn’t redeem him from all else that he had done.

               Elsa certainly didn’t want to come off as cold, so she settled for cool, furtive glances when she passed Loki in the corridors. He seemed to enjoy this, but not quite so much as the castle servants did. Indeed, according to Mia, word was quickly spreading through the kingdom of the man who had rescued the queen on her Hunt. The rumors ranged from dangerously close to truth, right down to Elsa falling asleep on the prince’s shoulder, to ridiculously inaccurate, and involving the slaying of a rogue dragon.

               The gossip was, in a strange way, relieving. While there were whispers of monsters in the woods, no one seemed to care that Elsa had failed her Hunt. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. And while she didn’t enjoy people talking about her love life, there was something strangely…exhilarating about being talked about for something positive, for once. This chatter was something entirely different from whispers of witchcraft and accusations of black magic—it was buzzing with energy. There was something about it that was so happy and exciting and new… Although, she shouldn’t assume that Loki would live up to this expectation. She barely knew him, after all.

Elsa wanted that to change.

<br />

               Loki creaked open another door, grimacing as a few young looking servant girls giggled behind him. He resisted the urge to tell them off, not wanting another ‘Mia’ incident.

               The castle was even more massive than he’d initially thought. He believed this was the fourth sitting room he’d found so far, in his explorations. One for every time Elsa had looked at him that day. Convenient.

               The god shut the door. He’d already looked through the first of that sort that he’d found, and while it had been amusing at first, he’d grown bored rather quickly. The most interesting thing he’d found in it had been a small, checkered table covered in small, marble figures of black and white; a game, he figured, but useless, since he had no clue how to play it.

               Sighing, he opened another door, and was pleasantly surprised to find something far more interesting this time around. A library, by the looks of it, and empty except for a single petite redhead, lounging in a corner. Loki was surprised to see Anna here; didn’t she have some sort of royal business to attend to?

               He decided to voice this to her, and she looked up, face apprehensive.

               “I’m waiting for Kristoff to get back,” she explained, “It’s getting late, and I worry about him with what’s in the woods.”

               The god strolled towards a shelf near her, “I would think Arendelle would be on high lockdown, given the circumstances. How is it that they are allowing the prince into so perilous a situation?”

               The princess’s eyes widened, “Didn’t you know? Elsa’s asked that we keep your little secret.”

               _Temper, temper._

He blinked, unfazed, “ _My_ little secret?”

               “Yes,” Anna snapped, “ _Your_ secret. I know you had something to do with that thing being there, and I don’t trust you, no matter how much Elsa-” she froze.

               “How much Elsa _what_?” Loki baited eagerly. The princess paused, and he waited as she stood up, setting her book down.

               “Thank you,” she finally said, tone calmed, “for saving her. Just know that the last person who tried to hurt my sister got pushed into the ocean.”

               “What makes you think I want to hurt your sister?” he asked, studying her. The princess of Arendelle had gained a great deal of suspicion of him, within the course of a day. Loki wondered if there was something behind that.

               “I don’t know!” Anna exclaimed, suddenly looking much younger to the god than she had a moment ago, “All I know is that you showed up, and she knew something was wrong. That’s how Elsa is. She always knows when something is wrong and then all that stuff started happening and now you’re back but she likes you for some reason and-” she cut herself off, covering her mouth with a hand and going wide eyed, staring at him like she’d just revealed some terrible secret.

               Again, Loki felt a strange rush of compassion for the young princess. It took him a moment to realize that it was probably the same thing most older siblings felt for their younger brothers and sisters. He wondered if Thor had ever cared for him like that.

               _You know he did_.

               _Of course he didn’t. You were an outsider from the start._

               As usual, the more sinister voice succeeded in drowning out the other in Loki’s mind, and he offered Anna a small, sad smile.

               “Is that the secret?” he asked incredulously, giving a huff of laughter, “That Elsa _likes_ me?”

               The still wide eyed princess shook her head rapidly, only confirming his suspicions.

               “Anna…” he started.

               “ _Princess_ Anna.”

               “Right,” the god corrected, amused, “Princess Anna. I assure you that my intentions towards your sister are strictly honorable. Does that reassure you?”

               “No.”

               “I didn’t think it would. But I can see Kristoff through that window, so I’m sure you have better things to do than engage in circular debates about my trustworthiness.”

               Indeed, in the distance, it was just possible to make out a splash of blond hair and antlers, slowly making its way down the mountain, trailing a large crate of what Loki guessed was ice behind it.

               Anna nodded slowly, crossing her arms, “Alright, that’s my queue to leave. Just…promise me one thing, Loki.”

               The god waited.

               “Be good to her.”

               She left without another word, leaving Loki alone to ponder how he felt about the princess’s assumptions of his intentions. After watching her go, he grabbed a sheet of paper off a nearby table, scribbled a note on it, and engulfed it in a translation spell.

<br />

               Elsa fought to keep her eyes on the ground when she next passed Loki, for the _fifth_ time, in the hallway. She almost jumped when she felt fingers lightly tuck something behind her ear as she walked. Heart hammering, the queen stopped in her tracks to remove it, and she saw that it was a small, folded piece of paper.

               _A note._

Blushing, her eyes flitted over the paper, which had a strange, greenish shimmer to it, taking in every word. Despite the fact that it looked like he’d written in pencil, the words looked almost like ink. Loki wrote with a definite stroke, each letter elegant and looping, and for a moment Elsa felt ridiculously concerned that her own cursive wouldn’t measure up, when she responded.

               **_Are we to go on like this much longer? –L_**

The queen took a moment more to admire the signature at the end. If he had said it to her face, the words almost would have seemed curt. Why then did they seem so… romantic in this context?

               Resisting an urge to roll her eyes at herself, Elsa marched off to find something to pen a response with.

<br />

               Loki smirked down at the book he was currently flipping through, seeing the queen enter the library out of the corner of his eye. He’d wondered how long it would take her to respond, if she did at all.

               The god pretended he was fascinated by the page he was currently on in ‘Wildlife of Arendelle,’ this one featuring a sheep like creature with large, twisted horns, as she sat down a few chairs away from him. She jiggled her foot nervously, reading over her own note for what he guessed must have been at least the third time, knowing Elsa. Dressed in a simple gown with her hair down in a braid, she looked pretty as usual.

               She looked up, catching him red handed as he studied her. Loki feigned innocence, raising an impatient eyebrow.

               Glaring at him, the queen huffed and stood up indignantly, marching over to where he sat and practically slapping the paper down in front of him. She sat down across from him this time, arms crossed as he sent a smirk her way.

               **_I guess not anymore. Is there magic on this paper? –E_**

               Loki flipped the paper over and wrote, taking his time tracing each letter and feeling the queen’s eyes on him the entire time. Finally, he slid the note across the table to her.

<br />

               Elsa hated herself for blushing when she read the new note.

               **_Perhaps. –L_**

               He was baiting her—no, he was _flirting with her_ ; playing the ‘mysterious stranger’ trope like a fiddle. She couldn’t deny it any more than she could deny the fact that she was, in spite of herself, enjoying it. Scribbling a response, she sent the paper back.

<br />

               **_Can’t you ever give a clear answer? –E_**

Loki smirked. Finally, they were getting to the interesting part.

<br />

               **_Sometimes there isn’t one. –L_**

Elsa scoffed at the prince in front of her. What was he, a philosopher? Though she knew so little about him that it wouldn’t be a complete impossibility to consider. She could see now that there wasn’t only mischief behind those green eyes, but also intelligence. In fact, there was a great deal of it, and Loki gave off the vibe that he knew how to use it.

<br />

               **_You’re good with words. –E_**

Loki smiled at the compliment. His talent with language _was_ one of his better attributes, after all.

<br />

               **_They used to call me Silver Tongue in Asgard. –L_**

               ‘Silver tongue’? Elsa wondered what kind of a reputation the prince must hold in his own kingdom, that he was so well known for such a…liar’s talent. He was undoubtedly intelligent, but the name implied cunning, as well.

<br />

               **_Are you a good liar? –E_**

               And there it was. Loki in point of fact hadn’t really lied all that often when he was at home—only when it served his purposes. The fact that on these few occasions he succeeded, however, seemed to be enough to build him a reputation as a trickster. The god couldn’t say he minded it.

<br />

               **_Very. –L_**

The word sent a shiver down Elsa’s spine, reminding her that, by inviting Loki back, she could very well get burned by the fire she was playing with. His eyes glinted at her when she looked at him questioningly, and only made her all the more apprehensive as she penned her next message.

<br />

               **_Have you lied to me already? –E_**

**_Perhaps. –L_ **

**_Is that a lie? –E_ **

Loki grinned at the blonde studying him. She certainly caught on fast, this one did. Elsa was pleasantly clever, for a mortal. The god was, to his surprise, enjoying this strange conversation of theirs, and he scratched his next note with relish.

<br />

               **_Perhaps. –L_**

**_Is that all you can say? –E_ **

**_I haven’t said a word. –L_ **

Elsa finally sighed in exasperation, setting the paper aside.

               “Why don’t we talk like normal people?” she suggested.

               “Why don’t we?” Loki asked, leaning towards her across the table, eyes not leaving hers.

               The queen shook her head at him, “Do you like confusing people?”

               “I don’t like confusing people,” he said wickedly, “I like speaking intelligently and watching as they are confused by it.” She decided that this was, in fact, a yes.

               Elsa gave a short bark of laughter, “You’re full of yourself, do you know that?”

               He genuinely seemed to frown at this, brow furrowing as though he was sure she’d read him wrong, “I am not.”

               “Yes,” she laughed, “You are!”

               “Am not.”

               “Are too!”

               Loki sighed, frustrated, “Why don’t we change the topic?” He looked away.

               “Fine,” Elsa complied, “Why was there magic on the paper?”

               “We don’t share your language in Asgard,” he explained, surprising the queen.

               “You…don’t write the same? Then how can you speak like us?” she asked.

               He shook his head, unable to answer, “I don’t know. We were never taught much about kingdoms besides our own except…” Loki trailed off, seeming to think better of what he was about to say.

               “Except what?” Elsa pushed. He looked reluctant to answer, but nonetheless, eventually broke the silence.

               “If,” he seemed to choose his words very carefully, “we are taught about another kingdom, it is only to further one of Asgard’s stories. Most other kingdoms are…looked down on, in Asgard.”

               The queen could feel his eyes boring holes into her skull as he watched her, waiting for a reaction. He knew what he’d said; he recognized that it wasn’t a…good thing for a kingdom to do. But that didn’t mean Elsa had to like or accept it.

               In reality, she didn’t know how she felt about this development. They obviously must not care all that much about differences, if they’d sent Loki here.

               Unless…they didn’t send him.

               Now that she thought of it, the queen didn’t recall ever learning _why_ he’d come to Arendelle in the first place. Had he been actively avoiding the topic, or had she been too ignorant to ask? Either way, it seemed an important thing to know.

               “What do they say about Arendelle?” she asked quietly. This seemed a question that would be answered more truthfully if she went about it slowly.

               “Do you want the honest answer?” he inquired, “Or the one you want to hear?”

               Elsa looked directly into his eyes, “The honest one,” she said with conviction, “Always.”

               Licking his lips, Loki shifted in his chair slightly before answering, “Arendelle, as well as many of its surrounding kingdoms are seen as rather...” he paused, searching for a word, “primitive. Insignificant compared to Asgard.”

               The queen didn’t know how to respond at first. Of course, she’d heard of kingdoms like Asgard before. They were often ruled by tyrants; brainwashing their citizens into thinking they lived in a land that was better than all the rest and convincing them that anyone from the outside was dangerous and not to be trusted. Few ever left them, so she’d never have dreamed of actually meeting someone who’d lived in one. Loki seemed relatively normal, though…

               “Why are you here, then?” Elsa asked. They had been speaking quietly the entire discussion, but now the queen’s voice was barely audible in the otherwise silent library.

               Loki leaned forward slightly, and the queen studied his green eyes as he spoke, “I wish I could answer that, Elsa. I do.”

               “Oh my gods,” her eyes widened in realization, “Did you run away?”

               He blinked in response, and Elsa felt a wave of guilt descend over her as he attempted to control the pained expression his face was twisting itself into.

               “I’m sorry, Loki. I-” she started to apologize, but he held up a hand, and taking a deep breath, spoke.

               “In a sense,” he said resignedly. The prince looked like he was about to say something else, but he seemed to decide against it, and closed his mouth again.

               “Is Asgard a…a tyranny?” Elsa asked hesitantly, and Loki laughed harshly.

               “In a sense.”

               “Did you not like it there?”

               “You ask a lot of questions, Queen Elsa,” he pointed out, not unkindly.

               “Sorry-” she started, but he shook his head quickly, eyes warming again.

               “Don’t apologize for asking questions. Just don’t be upset when you don’t like the answer.” The prince looked away after that, and Elsa wondered if he had ever asked one too many questions. Did Asgard even allow him to ask questions?

               “I loved it there,” Loki continued, “Or, I thought I did. Eventually I realized that I was never truly happy there, though.”

               “Why?” she prompted. Elsa was confused as to how you could be so happy somewhere, only to realize you never had liked it. What could turn someone’s worldview upside down like that?

               “I asked a question,” he said darkly, “And I didn’t like the answer I got.”

               “Tell me,” the queen breathed, leaning in closer. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears as their eyes met. There was something that was always so unearthly about his green orbs that made her feel like she was face to face with a wolf…no, not a wolf. More like a dragon. Something too mighty to ever go through with an attack. Though she supposed that could be her infatuation speaking.

               Loki leaned back slightly, “No,” he said curtly, “No, I don’t think that is a good idea.”

               “Is it a good reason at least?” she pursued, “To run away? Because if they come here and think we kidnapped you-”

               “Kidnapped me?” he scoffed, “You overestimate the level at which Asgard holds the outside world’s intelligence. You are ants to them.”

               “But what if they’re looking for you?” she asked, feeling rather small. His bitterness had startled her slightly; sometimes she forgot that she was the queen and he the prince. He seemed more kingly than she seemed a queen.

               “Well,” he laughed humorlessly, “Someone is clearly looking for me. Though I doubt it is Asgard.”

               A heavy silence fell. Elsa wanted to ask who was looking for him, if it wasn’t Asgard, but she had a sick feeling that the answer wouldn’t be pleasant. She knew, deep down, that it had to do with the monster in the woods, but addressing and believing that theory was something the queen wasn’t at all inclined to do at the moment. Not when Loki was here, in front of her, human and hurting. It wasn’t the wise thing to do, and it wasn’t the best for Arendelle, but perhaps if she ignored the monsters long enough, they would leave.

               She tried not to think about how unsuccessful that had been for her in the past.

<br />

               Loki was starting to regret ever beginning the conversation. As much as he hated it affecting him, it _hurt_ to talk about Asgard. He’d lost so much in the past weeks; his memories were now tainted with bitterness, his family hated him, and he now knew he was a member of the most primitive races known to the nine worlds. And even they hadn’t wanted him. No one wanted him-

               _What about Elsa?_

               He looked across the table at her. She was so curious, so innocent. She still asked questions without worrying over the answer. It was an enviable mindset.

               _She doesn’t know me._

_She’s starting to._

_Yes, which means she’s going to hate me soon._

_Only one way to find out._

The god sighed, “We should change the topic,” he said, “My past in Asgard is not exactly a romantic subject.”

               The queen balked, “Romantic? Is that what we’re doing?”

               “Elsa,” Loki said knowingly, “How you could possibly read anything other than romantic into whispering in the library for hours, passing notes, is beyond me.”

               She blushed bright red, and the god leaned back in his chair, grinning at her like a Chershire cat.

               “ _Stop_ …” she moaned, putting her face in her hands, and the god snickered, leaning forward again.

               “Are you truly that naïve?” he raised a brow in jest.

               “I’m not naïve, I just don’t…” Elsa gestured to the general area around them, “I don’t do this. Much.”

               Loki nodded solemnly, “That’s usually Anna?” he guessed. The redhead was certainly more outgoing, and in his experience, the more outgoing ones tended to be more successful romantically. It was an advantage of Thor’s that had always overshadowed him.

               The queen widened her eyes, “Loki, thank the gods she found Kristoff quickly. I don’t know if I could take much more after Hans.”

               “Ooh,” the god said eagerly, intrigued by the way her lips curled around the name, “I’d like to hear that story.”

               Elsa sighed regretfully, “Hans was… he was a prince that came to my first coronation ceremony. Anna was really excited then, because it had been the first time we’d opened the castle doors in _years_. She was so excited to have people to talk to-”

               “Why were your castle doors closed for years?” Loki inquired, and was surprised to see the slight shadow that fell over the queen’s face.

               “I’ll tell you after I’m done with this story. Anyway, she and Hans by the end of the night wanted to get married. They wanted my blessing, and I told them no, since she’d just met him and everything. We got into a fight, and I accidentally revealed my powers to everyone. After I ran off, Anna came looking for me and I ended up hurting her. Shot of ice right to the heart. The legend was that only true love’s kiss could fix it, so she went back to find Hans and he…locked her up. He left her for dead. It turned out the only thing he’d wanted was the crown. He didn’t love her at all.”

               “…and how did you save her?” the god asked after a short pause.

               Elsa shrugged, “I cried a lot and…it worked.”

               Loki stared in disbelief a moment, “You cried over your sister and it healed her?” he asked incredulously.

               “Yes,” the queen confirmed, as though nothing was out of place.

               “Hm,” he huffed, “I wish crying worked that way in Asgard. Now why was your castle closed off for so long?”

               She looked down at the table, “My powers. No one was supposed to know about them. My parents meant well but they…they didn’t know what was best for me in that case. They thought it was better for me to hide them, even though they kept getting worse, and pretend everything was fine.”

               Loki wondered if all parents were completely oblivious to the mental needs of their children.

               “And they were alright with you finally revealing them?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

               “…they weren’t around to tell me otherwise.”

               “I am sorry,” he consoled.

               “But,” she continued, to his surprise, “I think they would be proud of me now if they saw me.”

               Hm. She was confident in her statement. She believed it, and it perplexed the god.

               “I’m sure they would,” he said quietly, deciding to humor her. He knew how reality was. Odin had never accepted a Frost Giant son. It either was there from the start, or it never came to pass.

               Elsa sighed, “I should probably go…” she trailed off, looking reluctant to leave, and the god blinked up at her as she stood. He didn’t want her to go. In spite of himself, Loki was quite enjoying their conversation.

               No, not in spite of himself. If he’d had any reservations towards the subject of romance with the mortal queen, they’d certainly been bypassed already.

               “It was a pleasure, Elsa,” he murmured, reaching out for her hand and, when she placed it in his, giving it a gentle kiss.

               The queen coyly smiled down at him, and Loki watched her go in wonder. All he could think as he watched her petite form with that pretty hair go was what Odin would think, having two sons who fell in love with mortals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter this time! So sorry. The next one will be better, though. And it looks like someone’s a little infatuated, aww…


	7. Chapter 7

               For the next week, most of the days passed in much the same manner as the previous. Each morning, Elsa and Loki would each try to promise themselves to avoid the other, or at least show a little bit of dignity in interacting with one another, and each afternoon, it became clear that they would fail. Eventually, both parties started to realize that they were, in fact, becoming quite infatuated with one another. Their meetings in the library became more frequent and long lasting as time went on, and usually, when they weren’t together, they thought of one another.

               For the god of mischief, this was almost becoming distressing. He tried to use reason, tried to rationalize that this was a mortal girl who wasn’t worth his time. He shouldn’t _want_ to _know_ her! But as much as Loki tried to convince himself that this was all just a scheme to kill time, he knew the truth. It was obvious, given the way his chest had started to warm every time she was around, the way her eyes gave him hope for a future he knew he didn’t, and would never, have.

               Loki couldn’t say he loved her; it was too early for that, and hopefully, there would never come a time when it _wasn’t_ too early. All love promised was weakness; he’d learned that the hard way. The god couldn’t have another weakness, because he’d been hurt too many times to bear another.

               The entire situation was becoming very confusing, because he wanted to love her just as much as he wished he’d never met her. Elsa was…she was a puzzle. She was temptation. Loki tried to hate her, and he tried to remind himself that she was a sheep, and he a lion, but the god nevertheless found himself pulled towards the ice queen. It was exactly this that caused him to leave his bed, one night, to investigate why snowflakes were falling past only the left side of his window.

<br />

               Loki frowned at the crystalized water, wondering if he was imagining things. But…no, snow was definitely only floating down past one side of his window. That could only mean one thing. He hadn’t seen much more of Elsa’s powers since they’d started this little…whatever this was. To say he wanted to see more was…an understatement. The god swung himself stealthily off his bed, as usual not covered in a single blanket, and tiptoed to the window.

               Yes, this was definitely Elsa. Eyes sparkling, Loki watched the glitter-like substance swirl unnaturally, standing out against the dark sky. He wondered if he should try to counter it with a bit of his own magic, but decided against it. He had best go and meet her. The queen didn’t seem the type to go inviting just _anyone_ to her rooftop at midnight.

               _She’s certainly not ordinary, is she?_ He thought to himself.

               _No, no, no. Stop it, now. Mortals shouldn’t-_

He cut that train of thought like a thread on a frayed shirt. This subtle invitation was too tempting to ignore. Loki, half wanting to slap himself for behaving so foolishly, and half buzzing with giddy eagerness, silently padded towards his door.

               A thought struck him just before he touched the knob. If she saw him without any cloak, she’d wonder why he wasn’t cold. Elsa had been terrified of the Chitauri—who knew what her reaction to a Frost Giant would be? There wasn’t a doubt that Loki could never reveal his true genetics to her, or even the fact that he was anything but human. The queen wasn’t stupid, though, so how long would it be before she made her own deduction?

               Deciding to take the risk, the god’s heart hammered as he opened the door and snuck into the hallway.

<br />

               Elsa couldn’t help but smile when Loki finally climbed onto the castle rooftop, not stumbling or slipping on the ice and snow once. Offhandedly, the queen wondered if it was cold in Asgard. There was still so much the queen didn’t know about the prince… She had wanted to pretend she hadn’t seen him out of the corner of her eye, but her body seemed to be insistent on betraying her. An anticipatory blush crept onto her cheeks and she couldn’t stifle an unqueenly snort of nervous laughter as she felt him grinning at her.

               “You know, you could have just asked me to come here earlier,” he pointed out matter of factly, and the queen finally allowed herself to look at him. She was surprised to see that he was still in sleepclothes, without so much as a hat to keep him warm. Infuriatingly, he still looked regal as ever, and it occurred to Elsa that she didn’t look half as much a monarch in her casual dress and cape.

               “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, concerned enough to ignore the previous question, and he shook his head, avoiding her gaze and looking out at the mountains.

               “I don’t get cold.”

               Like her? The queen could have sworn he sounded sad, but when he looked back to her, a smirk quickly twisted his mouth again. She couldn’t tell if it was forced or not.

               “Trouble sleeping?” he asked cheekily.

               She nodded, “You too?” Elsa assumed that he would have needed to be awake to see the snowfall she’d caused.

               Loki nodded. He looked almost inhumanly beautiful in this light, with the moonlight gleaming off his porcelain skin and his eyes darker than usual. It was almost intimidating, the way he seemed to give off this aura of mystery.

               “I don’t get cold either,” she admitted, breaking the silence. As she said it, she unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, nearly disproving her statement.

               He looked her up and down, taking in her lack of insulation from clothing, “I believe you,” he said simply, “Is it because of your powers?”

               Elsa shrugged, “What else could it be from?”

               He shook his head again, “Allfather knows…”

               “Who is the Allfather?” she blurted out suddenly. The queen had so many questions about Prince Loki that sometimes she didn’t think she could wait another minute before getting them answered. His reluctance to give clear answers only made them more worth chasing—she wondered if he did that on purpose.

               “A…erm…prominent figure in Asgard.”

               Silence fell, and Loki took a few steps closer to her, quickening her heartbeat and ensuring that her eyes were ensnared by his own. Soon they were only feet apart, and it was all Elsa could do to steady her breathing.

               She couldn’t really deny her feelings any longer.

               “Tell me an Asgardian story,” she said quietly, and he smiled down at her. It was a fleeting, sad smile. For a brief moment, Elsa wanted to slap herself for reminding him of the home he’d left, but it was too late now.

               “Elsa,” the prince said darkly, “I’m not sure Asgardian stories will help you sleep.”

               “Who said I wanted to sleep?” she challenged. This seemed to brighten his demeanor drastically.

               With an almost convincing, crooked grin, Loki answered, “Shall we sit down?”

               Elsa nodded, trying to look anything but lovesick, but even as she sat down next to the prince, facing the mountains, she couldn’t resist looking at him.

               He watched the landscape a moment before continuing, “I suppose I’ll just give you an overview of the Nine Realms, shall I?” Loki sounded almost irritated, but the queen was too excited to learn something about him to worry about it.

               “I’m listening,” she smiled encouragingly at him, eyes bright with anticipation.

               “I know you are,” he smiled mysteriously to himself before continuing, “In Asgardian legend there are Nine Realms. The first of them is Alfheim. That one is where the Light Elves live. It is often said that they are fairer to look at than the sun. Svartalfheim is where their opposites, the Dark Elves live. They are…not so friendly. It is said that Asgardians fought them, long ago, in many battles for power and domination of the realms. Then there is the realm of the dead, Hel. That one is self-explanatory, though there are also different parts of it where the especially good or wicked go. Muspelheim is home to Demons, the Dwarfs live on Nidavellir, and Vanaheim is home to the Vanir. They are very similar to Asgardians, it is said.”

               “So…like people?” Elsa asked tentatively. Loki seemed to consider this a moment, temporarily perplexed by her question.

               He looked down at his hands, nodding, “I suppose, yes. Like people. Asgard is the next Realm. It is said to be the best one to live in. It has superior technology, a more civilized population, and a loving king,” his lips curled around the word, “Then there is Jotunheim. It is home to the Frost Giants.” His hand clenched.

               “What are they?” Elsa asked cautiously. This was clearly a sensitive topic for him. She wondered why that was.

               Loki looked out towards the mountains, not looking her in the eye, “They are…a monstrous race. Some would say even worse than the Chitauri or the Dark Elves. My father used to tell me stories about them, horrible things,” Loki took a shaky breath, “Some say they even eat the flesh of their enemies. My brother told me once he’d slay them all someday…I sometimes hope he accomplishes it.”

               “Wait…” the queen was confused, “This is…just a story, right? If your brother was actually hunting them, doesn’t it make it seem like he thought it was real?”

               Loki snorted, a bitter, painful sound, “We’re all just stories,” he said darkly, and there was a brief silence. The queen decided that, given that she had magic at her very fingertips, it didn’t matter whether or not the monsters the prince spoke of were real. Maybe stories were only realities that hadn’t been encountered yet.

               “Are they really that awful? The Frost Giants?” Elsa wondered aloud, and when he gave her a sharp look, rushed to explain, “I mean, you have Dark Elves and Demons, so why are the Frost Giants so much worse?”

               The prince shook his head, “First of all, they are ugly creatures. Bright red eyes and deep blue skin.”

               The queen’s breath caught in her throat. _Just like her dream…_ this was a strange coincidence. Why had she dreamed Loki as a Frost Giant? No…it had to be an accident. She hadn’t even known what they were, back then! Were her dreams trying to tell her something? That had been a terrifying dream...did Prince Loki have potential to be just as terrifying? Elsa looked sideways to the man beside her.

               Hm. Maybe by the end of tonight she would discover whether he truly deserved his portrayal in her dream.

               “Is there anything else?” she prompted gently, watching his reaction carefully.

               Loki sighed, “They cast their young out to die, if a baby is born too small, for one thing. Leave them to die on the ice.” 

               The queen gasped, “That’s horrible! Loki, what kinds of stories did you grow up on?”

               The prince laughed, though it came out sounding more like a snarl, “The kinds that give little bookish children nightmares.”

               _Ohh…_ Loki was a book lover! That explained why he had gravitated towards the library so much. And she supposed he was slightly smaller than some of the villagers he’d seen…did he identify with these Frost Giant babies for some reason? Did _he_ feel unwanted?

              “Anyway,” he continued, “the last of the Nine Realms is Midgard. It is mostly inhabited by a primitive race simply named Midgardians. They don’t interact with the other Realms often.”

               “Which Realm are we in?” Elsa asked slowly, and the prince turned to look at her, his face unreadable. He tilted his head.

               “Take a guess.”

               “Well,” Elsa started matter of factly, “The only one that makes sense is Midgard. But I find it interesting that your stories place your kingdom in its own Realm.”

               “One of the reasons I left,” Loki grumbled.

               As much as Elsa wanted to know the exact reason why the prince had abandoned his former kingdom, she had brought up the subject enough to infer that it was hard for him to talk about, so she decided to drop it.

               “Thank you,” she said simply, and Loki balked.

               “Why are you thanking me?” he asked incredulously.

               Elsa shrugged, “It’s hard for you to talk about, I know. It was a good story. I like hearing about you.”

               She hadn’t intended to confuse him with the statement, but in that moment, the Silver Tongue was at a complete loss for words. The queen wondered how often people were completely blunt with their emotions around him—if it was strange or even offensive to the Asgardian prince. Although she couldn’t imagine that, in Asgard, the kingdom where questions were only asked at your own risk, Loki encountered pleasant, honest answers often. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the light waves in the bay next to the castle.

               The prince licked his lips, eyes dark, “Tell me one of your legends,” he said softly.

               A smile found its way onto her face, and she shook her head, “Mine is going to be longer than yours,” Elsa warned. She already knew the exact story she would tell.

               He raised an eyebrow in jest, “I’ve got time, Elsa,” he said sarcastically.

               “Alright, I know, I know,” she said, “This is one my parents always used to tell me and Anna when we were little. It was one of my favorites.”

               “I’m listening.”  

               “I know,” she teased, referencing his earlier statement, “It’s called The Lion King. Do they have lions in Asgard?”

               Loki shook his head, “No, and I’ve never seen one, either.”

               “You don’t know what a lion is?” Elsa asked in disbelief, and the prince shook his head again. “Alright, well, it’s sort of like a big cat with a lot of hair around its neck. At least, the males have it like that…actually, this would be easier-”

               The queen’s palms glowed as she summoned a small flurry of snow, shaping it as best she could into the shape of a white lion, hovering right between herself and Loki.

               “Magnificent,” he muttered, more to himself than Elsa.

               She shrugged humbly and allowed the illusion to dissipate, “They’re fairly large, so just use your imagination from there. Anyway, the story takes place in a faraway land. It’s not like here—it never gets cold there, and they have plains of grass going on and on for miles, with barely any trees. Given the harsh conditions, there aren’t any people in this story.”

               Loki nodded quietly, transfixed by her description.

               “The story starts when the lion king of the savanna, Mufasa, had a cub, Simba, with his wife Sarabi. They were so proud of their baby, they held him up from the top of Pride Rock, where they lived, and all the animals of the kingdom came to see. There were elephants, and zebras, and cheetahs, and rhinos-”

               “Pardon, Elsa,” Loki interrupted, not rudely, “Would you mind doing a demonstration of those, as well?”

               She smiled, excited for an excuse to show her powers again. Suddenly, having Loki know about her skills wasn’t a fearful thing, anymore. His eyes lit up as she showed him first an elephant, then a zebra, then the rest of the mentioned animals in order, naming them as she went.

               He blinked, looking happy but still deeply sad, for reasons Elsa couldn’t guess at, “Go on.” The queen had no way of knowing how much she reminded the prince of his mother in that moment.

               “There was only one animal who didn’t come to baby Simba’s ceremony, and that was his uncle, Mufasa’s brother, Scar. Scar was secretly jealous of Simba, because he no longer was first in line for succession of the throne. He’d always been jealous of Mufasa, for numerous reasons including his superior strength. Scar, however, did have one thing over Mufasa, and that was his intellect. So he waited, and Simba grew into the arrogant little prince anyone in that situation would have been.

               “He was so eager for the throne, and would brag about his inheritance often, sometimes to none other than his uncle Scar. One day, Scar played his nephew’s naivety, in an attempt to kill him and his father. He told Simba to wait at the bottom of a deep canyon for a surprise. Little did Simba know, his uncle had gathered three of his followers, the hyenas,” Elsa paused to show Loki what they looked like, “to chase a herd of wildebeest into the canyon; a stampede which would surely kill the cub.”

               Elsa showed a wildebeest to the prince, and he watched silently, face unreadable.

               “The plan worked, and when Mufasa was told by Scar of his son’s predicament, he raced to rescue his firstborn. And he did get Simba to safety, but…Scar had planned ahead for this. The last words Mufasa heard before he was thrown to his death by his brother were none other than ‘Long live the king.’

               “Simba cried over his father, and a triumphant Scar feigned sorrow, convincing the young prince that it was his fault that Mufasa was dead. Simba was young, and naïve, and he believed his uncle when he said the best thing to do was to run away, and never return. For good measure, after the prince had a moment’s head start, Scar sent his three hyenas after Simba to kill him.

               “But Scar was too confident, and didn’t see the flaw in his plan. Simba managed to escape the less than competent hyenas and, not wanting to experience Scar’s wrath, they lied to their master, and told him they had, in fact, killed the young prince. Meanwhile, Scar told the lionesses of Pride Rock of the tragedy, and proclaimed himself king.

               “Simba wandered and wandered, and soon collapsed from exhaustion. Vultures started to circle his form and for a moment, it looked like it didn’t matter that the hyenas had lied to Scar about the prince’s death.”

               “But…?” Loki prompted, raising his eyebrows.

               “But,” Elsa smiled, “He was lucky enough to be found by a meerkat named Timon and a warthog named Pumba,” she paused to show Loki what they looked like, “They took him in and nursed him back to health. They instilled new confidence into him; a new peace of mind that he didn’t have before. But this wasn’t a perfect mentality, and as Simba grew he forgot previous concerns regarding his kingdom. It wasn’t until one day, when an old childhood friend, Nala, now fully grown, came to the jungle in search of food, and nearly killed Pumba, that Simba was forced to confront his past. Nala, once she recognized him, told Simba of how Scar had allowed the hyenas to consume all of the kingdom’s resources, and how the pride was slowly dying of thirst and starvation. She begged Simba to come back and claim his rightful throne, but he ignored her request, thinking it wasn’t his problem.

               “An old friend, however, managed to change his mind. Rafiki, the baboon,” she showed Loki what he looked like, “who had been a friend of Mufasa’s since Simba’s birth, and had watched him grow up, told him that the former king’s death wasn’t Simba’s fault. He told the prince, ‘you can either run from the past, or learn from it’. Mufasa lived within Simba, and it was up to him what he chose to do with that.”

               Loki had gone very still, watching Elsa intensely.

               “Simba chose to go back, and Nala, Timon, and Pumba followed him to his kingdom. The prince confronted Scar, and all of the false king’s lies came to light. He confessed to his murder of Mufasa, and it became clear to every lion in the pride that Simba was, in fact, alive. He and Scar began to fight, and all Hell broke loose. Due to the drought, when lightning struck a nearby tree, it blazed up, and so as lioness fought hyena, and uncle fought nephew, the savanna burned around them. Eventually, Simba managed to throw Scar off Pride Rock, and while it didn’t kill him, it was a clear defeat. The hyenas, seeing their leader fail, turned on him and ate him. Finally, the false king was dead, and it was time for Simba to claim his throne.

               “Like a scene from a play, rain started to quench the land’s thirst as he climbed to the top of Pride Rock. It extinguished the fires that had previously burned, and Simba roared a mighty roar, claiming the crown that had been stolen from him. The land grew prosperous again, the hyenas returned to their homeland, and Nala and Simba ruled the kingdom together with kindness and justice.”

               Elsa fell silent as she finished her story, watching Loki for a reaction. He looked preoccupied.

               “What a lovely story,” he said finally, though the sentiment didn’t reach his eyes. The queen decided to wait, however, for him to initiate the next part of the conversation.

               “I have to ask, though,” Loki continued, “Can you blame Scar for being jealous?”

               Elsa wondered why, out of all the characters to sympathize with, he would with Scar. The lion, now that she thought of it, reminded her of Hans a bit. Should it concern her that Loki was questioning the validity of labelling him as a villain? Could this be connected to the Frost Giants somehow?

               “I can,” she stared at him defiantly.

               “He never had a chance,” Loki pushed, still speaking quietly, “If I had been stepped on my entire life, I would have reacted similarly.”

               “You would kill your brother and his son? Loki, tell me you understand how horrible that is!”

               “Stories are always told from the winning side. And besides, what of the hyenas?” his voice had started rising, “What was their crime? Being hyenas? Why must they now return to exile? To starve while everyone else bows down to the supposed ‘rightful king?’”

               “But you said the Frost Giants were all evil. You had no problem generalizing them,” she pointed out.

               “And you had no problem generalizing the hyenas!”

               “Loki, stop! It was just a story. But you cannot possibly believe that Scar was in the right. He killed his brother and son. That they were willing to follow a man like that, who was willing to do terrible things just for his own gratification…that is what condemns them. Not being hyenas.”

               There was a short, yet heavy, silence. The queen could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

               “You must admit,” Loki said, now quiet again, watching the mountains, “The story would not allow for a good hyena. Some types are…predisposed to side with evil.”

               Elsa let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and the prince looked back towards her, amused.

               “Have I frightened you?” he cooed.

               She shook her head, “You could never frighten me, Loki. I just don’t agree with your logic. I think everyone gets to choose their path. Evil isn’t born, it’s created.”

               He snorted cruelly, “Now I know you’re lovesick,” he snarled, “Do you not remember our first days together?”

               “That is different,” Elsa countered coolly, “I like to think I’m getting to know a different you, Loki. The real you. And I think deep down you don’t believe what you’re saying is true.”

               The prince fell dangerously silent.

               “The real me?” Loki asked quietly, lips curling, “Elsa, I hope for both of our sakes you never get to know the real me.”

               “Stop speaking in riddles! Just tell me what you’re really thinking!” Elsa exclaimed, growing frustrated. How was she supposed to love Loki if she barely knew him?

               He stood up, and the queen followed suit, “Elsa, what if I’m not a victim?” he murmured darkly, “What if I’m a villain? A monster, like Scar.” By the end of his statement, Loki’s voice had started shaking.

               Elsa shook her head, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but also tempted to shake some sense into him, “Loki, stop this. If you do something to prove yourself either one of those things I will judge you as is necessary. But right now, we’re just telling stories on a rooftop. They’re just stories.”

               Loki took a trembling breath that made the queen’s heart ache as he looked out to the mountains again, and back to her. She was starting to think that the more they spoke, the less she knew about him.

               “Elsa, you are far too good for me. I hope you know that.”

               She couldn’t think of how one was supposed to respond to something like that. Loki was feebly trying to push her away, for reasons she couldn’t fathom. Did he truly think he wasn’t good enough for her? If so, then wasn’t that self-awareness enough to render him as better than Hans, or Scar? Wasn’t that progress?

               “I wish you’d give me a chance to decide that for myself,” Elsa said quietly, and he smiled sadly at her. Rather than answering, he summoned up a bouquet of Black Ice flowers in a flash of green, and handed them to her gently.

               “What was that for?” the queen asked, confused.

               Loki smiled softly down at her, eyes crinkling, “It’s what you do on these sort of things, is it not?”

               Elsa decided to accept the peace offering, “Show me more magic tricks?” she prompted.

               He grinned mischievously, “I thought you’d never ask. Look at your hair.”

               Before the queen had a chance to ask what he meant, she had already looked reflexively at her braid, to find that it was now a deep shade of blue.

               “Loki!” she scolded, not sure if she was more alarmed or amused, “Change it back!”

               The prince snickered evilly, this time changing it to a bright shade of yellow with a snap of his fingers.

               “Don’t make me…” she threatened playfully.

               “Don’t make you what?” he baited, feigning innocence, “Have you done something different with your hair, my queen?”

               Elsa, as an answer, summoned a thick blanket of snow and, without so much as a warning to him, dropped it on Loki, coating him in white.

               The prince’s jaw dropped in mock offense as he shook his hair out, “You’re going to make me sick!” he accused.

               The queen winked devilishly, “I thought cold didn’t bother you, Prince Loki?”

               “Ohhh, darling you have _no idea_ what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he threatened, scooping up some snow from his feet.

               Elsa smirked arrogantly, “I tremble with fea-AH!” her statement turned into a shriek when a snowball hit her in the face, “I can’t believe you actually hit me!”

               “That was for the slap,” Loki grinned, “And is that an insult to my throwing skills?”

               The queen sent another rush of snow in his direction, only to have the prince dissolve in a flash of green.

               “Missed me.”

               She spun around, and wasted no time in hitting the _real_ Loki with a miniature blizzard. After a second, however, it became clear to her that he was no longer in the center of it.

               “Here’s a challenge for you-”

               Elsa pivoted to face the prince again.

               “Which one of us is real?” his voice echoed oddly, and it only took a moment for the words to sink in, sending the queen spinning once more.

               Two Loki’s. One in front of her and one behind her. Well, there was really only one way to answer this question; she lobbed a large snowball towards the prince currently in front of her. This time, he didn’t disappear.

               Loki gaped, “How did you know?”

               She shrugged, “I went for the slightly more annoying one.”

               He grinned at her, “Alright, alright, truce.” Just like that, her hair was back to its original, pearly white.

               “Were you born with yours?” she asked eagerly, “Your magic, I mean?”

               “My mother taught me,” Loki said sentimentally, “She was a talented sorceress, herself.”

               “That’s wonderful,” Elsa said softly. She meant it. Anything that made Loki as happy as mention of his mother seemed to do brought her happiness as well.

               “It’s late,” he pointed out, “Shall we retire for the night?”

               The queen regretfully nodded her agreement. The truth was, she’d much rather have stayed out there all night with Loki, watching the stars. She wanted to listen to him tell her everything about himself. Elsa wanted to know about Asgard, about his family, about his response to her stories. Excuses were futile at this point, because the reality was that she was very quickly falling in love with Loki, in spite of his flaws. But wasn’t that what love was?

               “Perhaps one more story first?” Loki’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she eagerly nodded agreement. She knew the perfect one.

               The two sat back down on the snow covered roof, laughing together in the moonlight as Loki shook his soaking hair out in Elsa’s direction, and the queen answered with a playful shove. They watched the sky together as stories were told, remaining blissfully oblivious to the true monsters lurking in the mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovelies for all your reviews and feedback! Writing this was hard, but you keep me motivated! Look forward to a lot more Elki romance in the next chapter ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

<br />

               Elsa and Loki finally went to bed after the queen finished telling him the story of Sleeping Beauty; one mercifully less relatable to his situation. However, both of them slept restlessly, and this did not escape Mia’s notice when she woke the queen the next morning.

               “My queen, you look exhausted,” she voiced with concern.

               “Mmm,” Elsa groaned. Was it really morning already? Ugh, _why_ had it seemed a good idea to stay and tell Loki that extra story?

               _Loki_ …just his name made her want to smile. Last night had been magical…was there a possibility that today could be similar? That idea, and not Mia’s fussing, was what ended up making her sit up in bed.

               “So how was it?” a smug voice asked from the doorway, and the queen turned to see her sister smirking at her.

               “..huh?” Elsa asked, confused. It was too early for this.

               “Your midnight rendezvous with Prince Loki! Duh!” the redhead rolled her eyes, “Why else would you look like you were up all night? Did you sleep _at all_?”

               “Wait,” the queen frowned, overwhelmed, “One question at a time, Anna.”

               “How was last night with Loki? What did you guys do?” the princess persisted impatiently, now at Elsa’s bedside. The elder sister blushed, seriously hoping Anna wasn’t suggesting what she thought she was.

               “We went up on the rooftop and talked for a few hours. That’s it,” the queen said tiredly.

               “Uh huh,” Anna looked doubtful, “Not even a hug?”

               “Not even a hug,” Elsa confirmed, turning to look out the window.

               “Okay, let me confirm,” the redhead hopped onto the bed, raising an eyebrow at her sister, “You and Prince Loki went up to the rooftop _at midnight_ and didn’t even _hug_?”

               “Anna, the closest thing to a kiss that happened was me throwing a snowball at his face.”

               A surprised giggle escaped the younger sister, “Did you get him?” she snickered.

               Elsa laughed, “Oh, yes. But he got me, too.”

               Anna looked disappointed and got off the bed, “Damn.” The queen followed, taking some clothes from Mia.

               “So what did you guys talk about?” the redhead inquired as Elsa stepped behind a screen to get dressed.

               “Well, uh…” the queen wasn’t sure where to start. She wasn’t sure she wanted Anna knowing all of Loki’s secrets…when had that started? “He told me a little about Asgard’s culture. I told him The Lion King and Sleeping Beauty.”

               An offended gasp sounded from the other side of the screen.

               “What?” Elsa asked warily.

               “You told him The Lion King?” Anna asked quietly, “Elsa, that’s…that’s personal.”

               “Personal?” the queen asked, slipping her dress on and emerging to face her sister, “Anna, it’s just a story.”      

               “Just a-?” the princess’s eyes widened, “Elsa, that was a story our _parents_ used to tell us when we were little. It was your _favorite_. How can you just give that away?”

               Elsa shook her head, handing her discarded sleep clothes to Mia, who took them silently and left, obviously not wanting a part in the fight, “I really don’t see how it’s a problem that I told it to him. It was _my favorite_. Not yours. We don’t own those stories, Anna.”

               “No! We _do_ own them, Elsa!” the redhead shouted, startling her sister, “Those stories are a _part_ of us! You can’t just keep giving yourself away to Loki when he’s--”

               “When he’s _what_?” the queen narrowed her eyes, “You were the one who wanted him here in the first place! There’s nothing _wrong_ with him. Why do you care so much that I shared a bit of our childhood with him?”

               “You barely know him!”

               “Oh,” Elsa scoffed cruelly, “Says the girl who wanted to marry a prince after she knew him one night. Why don’t you take your own actions into account before you go criticizing those of others.”

               She regretted the words as soon as they were out. Anna was clearly having difficulty blinking back tears at this point, and without another word stormed out, leaving the queen alone in her chambers.

<br />

               “Loki.”

               “Mm?” the god rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. There was no way in the _Nine Realms_ that it was morning, already. Although for Elsa, only Elsa, he supposed he’d be willing to wake up.

               “Get up.”

               Hm. Her voice was sharp. He wondered what had her so upset. Silently praying that the queen’s distraught nature wasn’t because of him, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, surprised to find Anna, and not Elsa, in front of them. They sounded remarkably similar—though he supposed for sisters, it wasn’t all that shocking.

               “…Anna?” his brow furrowed, and Loki abruptly sat up, feeling vulnerable. That was a side of him only Elsa was allowed to see.

               “Yeah, it’s me,” she looked suddenly uncomfortable, crossing her arms, “Are you surprised?”

               “That seems a reasonable assumption,” Loki said dryly, and the edge crept back into her voice.

               “I just wanted to say something,” the princess looked at the floor, “And I’m not sure how to say it.”

               _You little snake,_ the god thought. Did she truly believe he wouldn’t see through this? He knew the signs of inexperienced lying, and Anna was exhibiting all of them. She was clearly trying to pass it off for nerves, and failing miserably. The princess stared at the floor, arms crossed and posture screaming insecurity. Or, at least, what was _meant_ to look like insecurity.

               “IthinkIloveyou!” she blurted out too quickly, and covered her mouth as though she’d revealed a terrible secret. Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he swung himself out of bed. Instead, he settled for a bit of sarcastic applause.

               “Bravo,” he said sarcastically, “Very well done, Anna. A few more years and you’ll be as good as me.”

               “Wha-?”

               “Darling,” the god said in a voice coated with sugar, “If you wanted to test my loyalty to Elsa, you’d need to do something far more drastic than that. I’m not even certain you were really trying.”

               Her gaze darkened, façade shattering immediately, “Shut up. I know what you are. You’re just another Ha-” she stopped herself, looking actually a bit worried this time that she’d said too much.

               “Just another Hans?” Loki finished, amused, “Is that what you were going to say?”

               “She told you…” Anna murmured, looking desolate.

               “Yes,” the god said matter of factly, “She told me about Hans. A few days ago.” A flashback to the consequences of his encounter with Mia reminded Loki of his priorities. If he’d barely gotten away with insulting Elsa’s servant, he couldn’t imagine what the consequences of doing the same with her sister would be, even if this time _she’d_ started it.

               “Anna, listen to me-”

               “ _Princess_ Anna.”

               “Princess Anna,” Loki rolled his eyes, “Listen to me. If you’re going to worry about something, don’t worry about my intentions with Elsa. I’m not sure how many times I have to tell you this, but it grows tiresome. What is it about me that unnerves you so?”

               She sighed, suddenly looking just as tired as the god felt, “She’s my sister, Loki. What would you do?”

               He huffed, “If it were my brother, I’d trust that he knew how to handle himself around suitors.”

               The redhead raised her eyes to his, defiant but childlike, “…Loki…just tell me one thing, and I’ll leave you and Elsa alone to kiss or whatever.”

               The god raised an eyebrow challengingly.

               “If it doesn’t work out with Elsa…will you bring more of those monsters to Arendelle?”

               Oh…she thought he controlled the Chitauri. It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. She would never have believed he was just as terrified of them as she was. Princess Anna, the younger, adoring sister; where had he seen that before?

               Loki sighed, “Anna, I assure you,” he said sadly, “I don’t want them here any more than you do.”

<br />

               The god watched Anna leave, feeling slightly guilty. She was only protecting her sister, who was he to criticize that? Just because Thor had never shown him the same courtesy didn’t mean that he had any right to take it from others.

               _You are a god. Of course you have the right!_

_Thor cared about you, you know that…_

_She’s going to tell Elsa about your little outburst, and then you’ll be—_

Loki threw himself down on his bed again after putting some clothes on, sighing deeply at the chorus of arguments taking place within his mind at the same time. The princess’s little confrontation had proved one important thing, and that was the temporary nature of this arrangement. Sooner or later, the Chitauri were going to make a move, and the god wanted more than anything that Elsa wouldn’t get caught in the middle of it. Even worse, Anna seemed to be under the impression that he controlled their actions, which meant when they attacked, he’d be to blame.

               He wondered if the queen would still love him when he left, whenever that would be. Actually, he didn’t know if she even extended that sentiment _now_ … or if he did, for that matter.

               The god knew he wanted to love her. It was only a matter of allowing himself. But if he allowed himself, he was vulnerable to be hurt again. Plus, no doubt that would be a green flag to Elsa, as well, and if she loved him, then she could get hurt.

               Look at him. Lying about like a corpse, trying to sort out his feelings for a Midgardian girl. A queen and a magic user, but a mortal nonetheless. Loki inwardly scoffed; being a Frost Giant runt was almost not so bad, compared to this. Odin would faint.

               “Was she too hard on you?” a voice asked from the right side of the bed, making him jump about a foot in the air as he sat up, faced with a concerned looking Elsa.

               “ _Allfather_ , Elsa,” the god gasped, “No, she wasn’t, but _don’t do that._ ”

               She covered her mouth, clearly hiding a grin and holding back laughter, “Sorry, Loki. The door was open and she just got done with yelling at me so…”

               Elsa was pretty when she laughed, he realized.

               Loki raised an eyebrow leaning back and crossing his arms, “She doesn’t approve of our relationship?”

               “I think that much is obvious,” the queen said sadly, “But she’ll come around, don’t worry. You and she got along pretty well when you first came here.”

               He smiled devilishly, “My dashing good looks can only get me so far, my queen.”

               Elsa raised an eyebrow humorlessly, and his grin faltered slightly before she snorted with laughter.

               “You looked worried for a minute, Loki.”

               He started to get up, looking relieved, “I thought I’d just invoked the Queen of Arendelle’s wrath.”

               “No,” she said coyly, “You’ve already experienced that much.” The god shook his head to himself. _Oh_ , had he. “I was just going to see if you wanted to come to the kitchens, since it’s pretty late already and they’ve cleaned up breakfast.”

               Loki’s stomach fluttered, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of Elsa’s invitation or the offering of food. Probably both, given that he was famished.

               “Lead the way.”

<br />   

               “So,” Elsa started as they started down a final spiraling staircase, “Tell me, what type of food do they typically have in Asgard?”

               Loki balked, “What type?” He looked confused by the question.

               “Yes, what do they eat there? I trust it must be different from here, given how different everything else is,” she explained.

               “Hmm…” the prince stalled, and a few servants walking opposite them up the stairs turned away to hide their smiles. Elsa tried to force the blush from her cheeks to no avail. She desperately hoped that word didn’t escape the castle of her and Loki’s night together on the roof.

               “What are you blushing at?” she turned to see he was looking at her questioningly, and her cheeks only grew redder as a result. The queen could have strangled Loki in that moment.

               “I’m still not used to everyone talking about us,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet.

               “Don’t do that,” the prince pleaded, and Elsa shot him a questioning look, “Don’t look at your feet,” he continued, “You are higher than them.”

               “I wear a crown,” she said doubtfully, looking away, “I am hardly much better than the next person.”

               “No, Elsa,” Loki said with conviction, “You are so, so much better.”

<br />

               “Here we are!” Elsa put an arm out in front of Loki, effectively bringing him to a halt. The two were stopped in front of a set of heavy, wooden doors in a back corridor of the castle, and her heartbeat increased when he bumped into her slightly.

               “Anna and I sneak in here all the time for extra sweets,” she explained in a hushed voice.

               “Ain’t that the truth!” someone much louder answered, and Loki almost jumped out of his skin for the _second_ time that day. Elsa and he turned to see none other than Kristoff watching them with amusement.

               “Kristoff,” the queen sighed, holding a hand to her heart, “Gods, you scared me…”

               “That makes two of us,” Loki muttered, and Kristoff snickered.

               “What, uh…what are you doing here?” Elsa asked awkwardly, forcing herself not to look at the prince next to her. Maybe if she didn’t look, Kristoff wouldn’t say anything…

               “Oh, you know,” the blonde said offhandedly, “Just getting some carrots for Sven. You know how he loves carrots…”

               The queen nodded carefully, “I…do know how fond he is of carrots.” Loki was currently wondering if he should clarify who Sven was.

               “I mean, he really loves carrots,” Kristoff continued, “I wouldn’t put it past him to take a bunch of them to the rooftop and kiss under the moonlight-”

               “OKAY,” Elsa said loudly, moving from Loki’s side to attempt to shove the blonde away, “It is time for you to leave now. Been _great_ talking but Loki and I need to-”

               “Well I still need my carrots, but you’re right, Elsa. I’ll just give you two your privacy,” he winked and gave an ‘ok’ sign to the prince, who raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

               “ _The kitchen are filled with staff, Kristoff_ …” the queen still hadn’t made any progress in pushing him away.

               “That’s never stopped anyone before,” Loki, to Elsa’s dismay and Kristoff’s joy, decided to join in.

               “Ah, _excellent_ point, Loki,” the blonde praised, tongue in cheek, “It certainly didn’t stop Anna and Hans, from what she’s told me.”

               “That’s because Hans was a whore, and we all knew it,” the queen muttered darkly. It was at this time that Kristoff and Loki doubled over in laughter. Elsa watched them, feigning disdain.

               “He’s a…he’s a…” Kristoff was gasping for breath.

               “Elsa, never have I heard such words,” Loki snickered, “from a lady’s mouth before.”

               She snorted, still watching Kristoff, who was literally on the floor, wheezing, “I am a queen, not a lady.”

               “I’ve…I’m…” he gasped, and Loki, who had mostly regained control of himself, joined Elsa in raising an eyebrow at the blonde.

               “Pardon?” Elsa prompted.

               “Elsa,” Kristoff grinned up at her, “I’ve seen you and Anna polish off an entire plate of triple chocolate truffles apiece _in one sitting_. I think I know that you’re no lady.” Loki bit his fist to resist laughing at this as the ‘lady’ in question turned on her heel and marched off into the kitchens, leaving the two men alone in the hall together.

               The god clucked his tongue, “Now you’ve done it.”

               “Oh, you wait,” Kristoff chuckled, “She’s not really mad. Is it true, though?”

               “Is what true?” Loki asked warily.

               “That you two spent a _romantic_ evening on the roof together?” the blonde waggled his eyebrows, and the god fought an urge to sneer in disgust. Word certainly traveled quickly here.

               “I haven’t laid a hand on her,” the god said sternly, but Kristoff looked undeterred.

               “Is that frustration I hear?” he baited. Elsa, mercifully, chose that moment to emerge once more from the kitchens, holding a large bundle of carrots, which she marched determinedly over to where Loki stood over Kristoff, still on the floor. With exaggerated motions, the queen proceeded to, without a word, drop the vegetables on top of the blonde.

               “Elsa—OW!” the blonde complained, “Did you _freeze_ these?”

               “Queen,” she smirked down at him, “not lady.” Loki grinned and left for the kitchens with her, leaving a bruised Kristoff on the floor in their wake. _That_ should give the staff something to talk about.

<br />

               “I can hear the gossip already,” Elsa said after they entered, leading the way. It was cozy, for a palace kitchen, Loki supposed. Not at all like the Asgardian kitchens. Despite the foreign nature of the many spices wafting past his nose, however, he couldn’t deny they smelled good. Different, but good.

               He chuckled, “Attempted murder by the queen and her whore…”

               The queen laughed loudly, and Loki’s smile widened at the sound, “I heard the most _juicy_ rumor about the queen, Loki. _Apparently_ she tried to stab prince Kristoff to death with a pound of frozen carrots.”

               The god snorted, amused, “The real story is enough on its own, actually.”

               “It could always use a little more spice,” Elsa said, finally stopping them next to a thin chef furiously stirring a brown, thick liquid. Apart from its strange appearance, Loki supposed it smelled alright. Quite sweet, in fact.

               “Good afternoon, my queen,” the man reluctantly set down the bowl to bow to Elsa, then Loki, who nodded, “Prince Loki of Asgard. It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope your stay has been good so far?”

               “Divine, thank you.”

               “Chef, I was thinking of giving Prince Loki the full Arendelle experience, which of course needs to include-”

               “Chocolates and sweets,” the man interrupted her, to Loki’s shock, though he supposed they did seem familiar to one another, “I know what you like, my queen. She and Princess Anna” he turned to Loki, “have what most would call a sweet tooth.”

               The god turned to Elsa, then back to the chef, “Kristoff told us as much. Something about eating entire plates of truffles in one sitting…?”

               The chef lifted a finger to his mouth, widening his eyes, “What happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen. Elsa has made sure we understand that rule. Although Kristoff isn’t exactly innocent, himself…” the man chuckled, “Well! My queen, feel free to help yourself to anything you like. I’ve got to finish this chocolate for a few pies, later, and then I have to…” he started trailing off, and Elsa took the opportunity to lead Loki away.

               In spite of himself, the god was very quickly warming to the informal atmosphere, here. It was like a big family, almost…

               “Alright, question,” Elsa turned around, bringing them to a halt again, “Are you a sweet or salty person?”

               “Sweet or salty…” Loki considered the strange question. Everyone liked both, didn’t they? Although he’d always been more of a dessert person. He’d never been a big eater—Frigga used to nag him constantly about it. Thor had been the one eating entire roasts on his lonesome. ‘Warrior’s appetite’, they’d called it.

               “Sweet, since you ask.”

               “Fantastic,” Elsa said eagerly, lightly grabbing his arm to lead him again, and bringing them to a stop next to a table filled with plates of what Loki guessed were Midgardian sweets. The queen’s eyes raked over the arrangement before finally settling. “Try one of these,” she held out to him a bite sized, cream colored sphere, and the god, feeling bold, opened his mouth in invitation, sticking his tongue out.

               She raised an eyebrow, “Don’t push it.”

               Loki rolled his eyes and clamped his jaw shut, taking the sweet from her by hand. One couldn’t have everything. He examined it critically for a moment before finally popping it into his mouth, chewing carefully.

               It was, actually, quite good. The outside was very sweet, but the interior had a much richer, darker flavor. It was almost bitter, but delicious nonetheless; an interesting combination.

               Elsa took one off the platter as he finished chewing, “What do you think?” she asked coyly, cocking an eyebrow playfully and throwing a candy in her mouth.

               “Not bad,” the god said offhandedly, “I’m impressed. What is it?”

               “Creamed beetles coated in sugar. Why?” she asked innocently, and it was Loki’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

               “You’ve already managed to startle me twice today, your majesty,” he said coolly, “I hardly think I’ll allow it to happen a third time.”

               Elsa frowned, “Damn. I’d thought I had you. Anyway,” she sighed, “It’s actually a dark chocolate truffle coated in white chocolate.”

               “Chocolate…” Loki murmured the strange word. He wondered if Thor had encountered it where he’d been on Midgard, “And this is a…popular dish?”

               “Arendelle is _known_ for its chocolate,” Elsa boasted, “So it’s popular here, but I’m pretty sure people all over the world have it. It just might be more expensive there. Rapunzel said it costs a fortune in Corona.”

               “What’s it made from?” he asked curiously.

               “Cocoa beans,” a nearby, elderly chef interrupted in a high voice, “Forgive me for the interruption, your highness, but they’re from across the world. Found in tropical jungles, where the trees reach the clouds.”

               “There you have it,” the queen shrugged at Loki, “Thanks, chef Gladys!” she beamed at the woman who’d spoken up. “Would you like to see the castle gardens?” she turned back to the god, “We can take our food outside.”

               Loki wondered for a moment what sort of things they’d have in the gardens at this time of year, but discarded the thought. Perhaps Elsa practiced more ice sculpting than he’d thought previously. Now that he knew of her powers, it made sense how easy it must be to create the art pieces. Then there were those flowers she liked…yes, the gardens would probably be quite lovely, now that he thought of it. It was hot in here, anyway.

               “Lead the way,” he said for the second time that day.

<br />

               Elsa and Loki munched on their candy as they left the castle for the crisp, cool air offered by the outdoors; the god eating most of the sweeter hard candies. They reminded him of Asgard’s food. It was a cloudy day, and looked like it would probably snow later. He breathed in the cold gratefully; he hadn’t realized how hot he had been until now.

               “Here we are,” the queen said as she opened a gate, leading Loki onto an icy pathway, “The castle gardens.”

               “My goodness,” he murmured, taking a look around. Black Ice seemed to be the staple flower of Arendelle’s winter, and it was planted in large quantities all around them, filling the air with a dark, unassuming, sweet scent. There were also small patches of pale yellow blooms that contrasted with the darker ones nicely, in addition to a few nonflowering plants that added pale green to the mix. Loki knew they probably looked much different in the summer, but the gardens in front of him now gave off a completely different vibe than the rest of Arendelle he’d seen. They practically screamed mystery. He wondered dimly how long ago the actual castle had been built—he felt like he was on old royal ground.

               The real eyecatchers of the gardens, however, were the ice sculptures. There had to be at least ten that he could see, each exquisite in detail and spaced evenly across the grounds. They towered above even him, and Loki turned to Elsa, mouth ajar.

               “Did you make all of these?” he asked in awe, and she shrugged sheepishly.

               “Yeah.”

               The god walked over to one, examining it closer, “Elsa, the detail on these is exquisite. How long do they take you?”

               “Not long,” she answered nonchalantly as he turned back to her, “I just don’t make that many since, you know, it’s only ice. It melts in the summer, and I can always make more. I actually made an entire castle once.”

               Loki balked, “An entire—like _that_?” he pointed towards the castle.

               Elsa grinned, “Yes, like that. Only mine had a chandelier.”

               The god shook his head, unable to process this, “How—no, _why_ in the Nine Realms…?”

               Her smile dimmed slightly, “When I first ran away, because everyone found out about my powers, I just kind of…let things go.”

               Loki snorted good naturedly, “You went overboard and built a castle?” he asked incredulously.

               “…essentially.”  

               “Can you show me?” he asked, eyes shining with eagerness. Elsa nodded, smiling gently.

               “Hold out your hand,” she requested, and Loki complied. He watched with amazement as the queen’s palms started to glow. Slowly, she formed a star-like base, building up miniature spires and towers from the bottom up. After a minute or so, she sighed and dropped her hands, forcing the god to look away from the tiny, glimmering masterpiece in his hand, and to her face.

               “It doesn’t do it justice. The actual thing was much better,” she explained, resigned.

               “I believe you,” Loki said quietly, “I imagine chandeliers are easier to work with on a large scale. But, Elsa,” he continued, “you must realize how incredible this is. You have a talent.”

               She smiled good naturedly at him, and the god handed her the castle so she could set it down, “You have talent, too. With your magic you have the world at your fingertips. Imagine the tricks you could pull.”

               Loki smirked knowingly, “Trickery is easier, yes. But I had to _learn_ my magic. Hours and hours of practice. You had yours for a day and were building castles. That’s talent, Elsa.”

               “I had some childhood practice,” she clarified, “But I wish you could see the real thing….”

               The god saw where this was going, “I can imagine it for now. It’s not safe out there.”

               “The journey is only two days! Plus, we’d get all that time to ourselves!” Elsa pushed, eyes pleading, “Away from Anna and Kristoff and all the gossip!”

               Loki raised an eyebrow, “And you think going off into the woods for two days, alone, is going to cause less gossip?”

               “ _Please_ , Loki? It would be so much fun…”

               “Fun?” he frowned, “Elsa, you’re the queen of Arendelle. Fun shouldn’t be your priority when-” the god stopped himself. He wasn’t sure how much the queen suspected that there were more Chitauri in the woods. Now that he thought of it, the topic had barely come up in the past few days. What if she’d forgotten about it? Reminding her wasn’t doing him any favors, certainly. But if something happened to her…

               Well, he supposed she _had_ killed the last one she’d encountered. But that had been after he’d showed up to help. An actual Chitauri attack would crush not only Elsa, but her entire kingdom.

               “When what?” she asked.

               Loki sighed, “Nevermind. It’s up to you, Elsa. You are queen.”

               “No, don’t do that,” Elsa scolded, taking a step towards him, “Tell me what you were going to say.”

               To lie or not to lie? That was the question. If he told her the truth about his suspicions about the Chitauri, she’d be safer, but also possibly more cautious around him. If he lied, they would spend more time together, but something could happen…

               No, there really was no question about it. This was Elsa. She wasn’t stupid. Better to tell her.

               “You remember the creature that attacked you on your hunt?”

               She eyed him cautiously, “…yes.”

               “I worry that there may be more out there. I told you, they almost always travel in groups, and I would hate for something to happen to you if they are in the forest, waiting.”

               There was a short pause. Loki couldn’t read Elsa’s expression.

               “…We don’t know for sure, though. It’s stupid to live your life in fear of things you can’t control. So why bother?”

               “Because it’s your responsibility to take them into account,” the god said sternly. This was an argument he had with Thor frequently.

               “We haven’t heard noises for almost a week, Loki,” the queen said gently, “I am taking them into account. They’ve been silent for long enough that I think we’re safe.”

               _That’s what I’m afraid of_ , he thought. If the Chitauri had been close before, and were vocal then, what did sudden silence suggest?

               Loki sighed, eyes wandering to the tiny, shining castle next to them, “Very well.” He supposed he didn’t have much of a choice but to agree, before she brought up what was surely the biggest unanswered question she had: what was his role in the Chitauri’s presence?

               Elsa looked slightly anxious when his eyes met hers again, and the god silently bent over to pluck a Black Ice flower from the nearest bed. Quietly, methodically, he weaved it carefully into the queen’s hair, fingers brushing against her porcelain skin slightly more often than necessary.

               “A real one this time,” he said softly, leaning back to examine his work. The queen slowly reached up to touch the bloom, then lowered her hand as she raised her eyes. Loki once again couldn’t read the look. The only thing he knew for sure about it was that it made it hard to breathe.

               Wait…he _knew_ that look…though to see it on the queen’s face was…something else entirely. The god watched her carefully, taking in every blink. She had such _blue_ eyes; to have them staring at him was nothing short of paralyzing. Loki wanted, more than anything, to just lean in and kiss her, though the very idea made him weak in the knees. He wondered if she could hear how loudly his heart was beating.

               _Allfather, get it together._

               “We should, ah…” Elsa blinked like she was waking from a dream, crossing her arms, “We should probably get inside. It’s starting to snow.”

               Sure enough, tiny flakes of white had started floating down from the heavens, peppering the gardens in white. The god wondered if it was in fact natural, or Elsa’s work. He gave a weak smile and nodded, putting a hand on her back as they went back inside.

               Loki mentally sighed. _Next time._

<br />

               “Wait, wait— _what_?” Anna asked incredulously, and the queen paused in undoing her hair, to roll her eyes at her sister.

               “Yes, Loki and I are going to spend the night at my other castle tomorrow,” she clarified coolly, “I take it we won’t miss anything too important?”

               The redhead’s jaw came unhinged, “Elsa, you _can’t_ be serious. After that monster attacked you on your Hunt you’re still going out there? Alone? _With Loki?_ ”

               “Loki has proven himself worthy of trust,” Elsa said softly.

               “ _Worthy?_ He’s just nice to you because he _likes you_.”

               “Isn’t that what you do when you like a person?” the queen asked dryly, “Besides, when has he ever been anything but kind to you?”

               Anna shook her head, changing tactics, “Elsa, I hate doing this, I really do. I hate fighting. But I just worry he’s going to try something and make us wonder why we ever trusted him in the first place.”

               “Anna,” the older sister said gently, now holding the flower from earlier in her hands, “I know. And I appreciate your concern, but I’m tired of shutting people out. I think it’s time we let him in. Please? If he pulls anything, I’ll personally let you punch him in the face.”

               The redhead forced a small smile, “I’m gonna hold you to that,” she warned.

               Elsa smirked back, “You get the first punch, I get to decide what comes after that. Beheading, etcetera.”

               The sisters hugged, happy to be in each other’s good graces once more. When they broke apart, Anna spoke first.

               “So did he give you that?” she nodded to the bloom in Elsa’s hand, and the queen blushed, fumbling with the petals.

               “Yes, he did. I…think we almost kissed, actually,” she confessed.

               “Wait a minute, woah, woah, woah,” Anna held her hands up in a halting gesture, “You guys _seriously_ haven’t kissed yet?” she asked incredulously.

               Elsa looked at the floor, “My hand, once...” she grumbled sheepishly.

               The younger sister snorted, “Is _he_ shy, or are you just-?”

               “ _Anna_ …” the queen groaned, “We’re just taking our time, alright?”

               “Taking your time?” Anna asked in disbelief, “Elsa, this is _denial_. How many flowers has he given you now?”

               “Love isn’t measured in flowers,” Elsa rolled her eyes.

               “Nah,” the redhead agreed sarcastically, “It’s measured in how many times you guys sneak off together when you think no one is looking.”

               “ _Anna…_ ”

               “I was down in the village today, and people are going _nuts_ over this. Some blonde girl said you were already _pregnant_.”

               Elsa’s eyes widened, “ _How_ can they possibly think that?” She’d never thought she was capable of gaining this type of reputation without doing anything.

               Anna shrugged, “People are dumb. Loki’s hot. They wish they were you. What more is there to it?”

               The queen answered that she didn’t think there was anything more to it, and her sister bid her goodnight soon afterwards. Maybe that was just part of life. People would talk no matter what you did. Elsa would much rather dream about Loki than fret needless gossip, anyway.

              

              

              

              

              

              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the filler. Thank you again for being amazing! See you next time! ^_^


	9. Chapter 9

               Elsa groggily opened her eyes, squinting at the sunlight coming through her window. She lazily threw an arm over her face, which did little to help the fact that she wanted nothing more than to burrow deeper underneath her blankets. The queen closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into the bed.

               “Oh, no you don’t. This trip was _your_ idea,” a familiar chuckle answered her sister’s voice, and suddenly Elsa felt wide awake. She opened her eyes fully this time to see Anna and Loki above her.

               Her heartbeat spiked, “OH! Uh, hey Loki. I didn’t expect to _see you_ ,” she glared at her sister, gritting her teeth, “until it was time to leave.” The queen was all too aware at the moment that her hair looked like a bird’s nest. She’d have to get Anna back for this when they returned.

               He smirked down at her, reading her expression perfectly and looking amused, “According to Anna, it _is_ time to leave.”

               “ _Princess_ Anna,” the redhead corrected pointedly, giving Loki a sharp look that he rolled his eyes at.

               Elsa resisted the urge to groan, “Did she wake you up?” she asked the prince.

               “Yes,” he said bitterly, faking a smile, “She certainly did.” It was obvious from the look in his eyes that his hadn’t been a pleasant wake up call.

               The queen glared at her sister again, then threw an apologetic look in Loki’s direction, “I’ll just, ah…get dressed, and then we can get ready to leave…” she trailed off awkwardly.

               He grinned, giving the bed a tap, “I’ll just help Kristoff ready our horses, shall I?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned away, giving Elsa one last smoldering glance from the doorway. She flopped back down onto a pile of pillows, covering her red face with both hands.

               “Anna,” the queen groaned, “I must be crazy. This is _crazy_. I can’t do this. I _can’t_ do this.”

               “Yes,” the princess argued, “You _can_. Elsa, come on. He’s clearly got a thing for you, and-”

               “ _That’s the problem!_ ” she shot up in bed, wide eyed, “I can’t go off on a romantic trip with _Loki_!”

               “Why not?” Anna steadily challenged, crossing her arms, “It’s not like you don’t know him already.”

               Elsa was very quickly starting to panic, “But he’s… he’s…”

               “Hot? Yeah,” Anna scoffed, “We’ve been over this.”

               “It’s not just that,” the queen moaned, “Anna, I don’t have the romantic skills to do this! I’ve never even _kissed_ anyone. How am I supposed to spend a whole day and a half alone with just Loki?”

               The redhead sighed, “Elsa, just yesterday you were overjoyed over this whole thing. Trust me on this; you’re going to leave and about ten minutes in you two will be throwing snowballs.”

               Elsa was silent for a moment, her heartbeat the only sound in the room. She supposed she and Loki had spent most of the day together yesterday—what was making this so different? If anything, she should be concerned over the possibility of Chitauri in the woods, so why was this what she was getting stuck on?

               _Because you love him,_ a voice answered from a corner of her mind.

               But she didn’t know that. She really couldn’t jump into this, or else it could end like Anna and Hans. No, she needed to be cautious, no matter how badly she wanted to simply leap into Loki’s arms and never let go.

               “ _Why_ did you have to wake him up first?” Elsa whined, breaking the silence.

               Anna winked knowingly, “Because I knew he would like it.”

               The queen couldn’t imagine what was remotely romantic about her looking terrible in the morning. She hated Loki seeing her like that. Not that relationships should be dependent on looks, but she still didn’t know him _that_ well, right? They were still at the stage where they had to look perfect for one another, right? Were things honestly moving that quickly?

               Elsa couldn’t deny the fact that her main complaint about being the second person up, looks aside, was that she had wanted to be the one to wake Loki.

<br />

               The rest of the morning passed ridiculously quickly, in Elsa’s mind. Mia helped her get ready and gave her a beautiful new cloak to wear, similar in color to the old one that had been damaged on her Hunt by the Chitauri. Anna followed her for most of this time, doing her best to keep the elder sister’s mind at ease, despite the fact that she herself had a bad feeling about the trip in the pit of her stomach.

               In what seemed like no time at all, there was nothing more needed to do prepare before they left, and the queen had no other choice but to go out to meet Loki. This probably wasn’t helped by the fact that most of the servants seemed extremely eager to do whatever they could to help the couple, ensuring that every task got done quicker. Elsa ignored how they all seemed to smile knowingly at her as she and Anna stepped out of the castle doors, into the sunlight.

               There was a brief moment where the queen stopped in her tracks unconsciously. Loki was scratching the nose of a black horse, talking to Kristoff. His eyes were shockingly pale in the light, but appeared even more alien when they met hers.

               The queen’s stomach fluttered, and it was clear from the dazed look that came over the prince’s usually composed face that he experienced the same. He seemed to shake himself out of it after a second, however, and Elsa was left wondering if she’d imagined the whole thing as he threw a smirk in her direction.     

               “You guys sure you have enough food?” Kristoff asked as Loki mounted his horse, “I mean, Elsa eats a lot.”

               The prince scoffed, “I am certain we’ll be fine,” he turned back to the queen, who smiled gently, swinging herself onto her own, chestnut colored horse. She felt a short pang of sadness as she did so, remembering Stella. Perhaps they would find her, on their journey, wandering through the woods.

               “Elsa?” Anna asked from below her, blue eyes filled with uncertainty, “Be safe, okay?”

               She nodded solemnly, mood darkening until she heard a voice from beside her.

               “We’ll be careful, Princess Anna,” Loki leaned around Elsa’s form so he could look the redhead in the eye, and this seemed to reassure her slightly. The younger sister offered a weak smile.

               “Alrighty, well…you guys keep it PG!”

               The queen rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry, Anna,” she turned to the prince, who already appeared to have been watching her intently, “Follow me; I know a route that will get us out of the city quicker.” She had assumed that this would be better than being swamped by questions delivered by curious villagers. If that happened, they could very well take an hour simply trying to leave Arendelle.

               Loki nodded, “As you wish.”

               She kicked her horse and they were off at a gallop through the now ever open palace gates, their cloaks flowing behind them like streaks of purple and green. Elsa slowed to a trot when they reached the actual city streets, not wanting to trample anyone, and Loki fell into step beside her.

               The queen eyed his cloak curiously, “Where’d you get that?” she asked. She knew they’d given him clothes, but never had she seen anything _that_ color in the palace. Unless they’d made him a new one…

               Realization struck her when she remembered the ease with which he’d changed her hair color, the night on the rooftop. It must have read on her face, because a mischievous grin slowly lit up the prince’s face as she made her conclusion, and he snickered.

               Elsa shook her head, “Honestly, Loki…”

               “I was wondering if you’d notice.”

               “But it’s pointless! Why are you bothering? Do you care _that_ much about the color?” she asked incredulously. Loki didn’t answer, instead turning to look at a few whispering girls—the ones that had been so nosy at the festival, she recognized, watching them. She almost said something, but the prince beat her to it.

               “I told you they would talk if we did this,” he grumbled, throwing a sharp look over his shoulder in response to a high pitched giggle.

               The queen sighed, “You also told me that we shouldn’t listen. That this is above their concern anyway. Right?” She did her best to meet the intense gaze he directed towards her in response. It was still hard to look him in the eye sometimes, though she wasn’t sure exactly why.

               “Here we are,” Elsa realized they’d reached the shortcut she was looking for, and had no choice but to be the first to look away, “Follow me.”

               The queen kicked her horse into a gallop again, and Loki followed, this time dashing through a series of narrow alleyways she knew no one used anymore. It was strange using a horse other than Stella, and the prince remained on her heels the entire chase, because of this. She leaned forward, not wanting to bash her head against any of the abandoned tavern signs or other outcroppings, breathing in damp, cool air until finally, leaping over a short fence, they reached the outskirts of the city, and with it, the forest.

               Elsa inhaled the thick scent of pine, and it reminded her of Loki. She grinned, panting contentedly and smoothing wisps of hair into place as she turned to face him. Her face fell, along with her heart rate, as she saw she was alone.

               Oh, no. No, no, no. This was bad. This was definitely not good. This was a thicker section of forest. It was darker here, and less populated. These were city outskirts—no place for her to be alone when there were potential monsters in the woods. Had he abandoned her or gotten lost? She wasn’t sure which was more troubling. _Why_ hadn’t they taken the normal route?

               Something moved in the bushes behind her, sending her heart rate up again. It beat in her ears like a drum as she remembered her previous Chitauri encounter. Hadn’t it happened just like this? Last time when she’d looked behind her, she’d faced a monster. Maybe if she never looked, it would leave? Slowly, dreadfully, she turned her horse around again.

               Nothing. Only trees.

               “L…Loki?” she tried to force as much strength as possible into her voice. She felt like there was something behind her; only real this time. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she was about to turn around when-

               “Boo,” a quiet voice uttered from directly behind her. The queen gasped and spun around, face to face with a snickering Loki.

               It was like all of her fears collectively disappeared. Elsa let out a breath, a hand on her heart.

               “ _Don’t_ do that!” she scolded, still catching her breath.

               He continued laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners, “That’s twice I’ve startled you today, yes?”

               “Two times too many!”

               “Aha, well now we’re even,” he said smugly, smirking at her in a way that he probably _knew_ would make it impossible for her to stay angry.

               Elsa felt the back of her neck where he’d breathed on her, “How did you…?”

               “Magic, of course, darling. Now you see me,” he and his horse disappeared in a flash of green, “now you don’t.”

               The queen groaned in complaint, “Loki…”

               “Yes,” he reappeared again, “My queen?” Another chuckle escaped him, and Elsa couldn’t help a small smile from brightening her face. She wished she could at least _fake_ anger at him…

               “Change my hair back,” she ordered, steadying her gaze and forcing herself not to check what color he’d changed it to this time.

               Loki cocked an eyebrow, grinning still, “You’re getting too smart for me. It’s back now.”

               She looked down at her braid to see that it was indeed back to its normal, platinum color, and sighed, “Shall we go now?”

               He motioned her forward, “Lead the way.”

               Elsa started to move forward, but an idea struck her, and she quickly halted again, turning to Loki.

               “You can make things invisible.”

               He nodded offensively slowly, “…Yes.”

               “Would it be possible for you to make us both invisible? That way, we’ll be less likely to encounter-”

               “Elsa, that’s a terrible idea,” he interrupted, and she tried to hide her shock at his curtness.

               “Why is it terrible?” she asked quietly, a little hurt.

               “Because then I won’t be able to look at you.”

               When they set off again, she wished she had magic to hide her blush.

<br />

               They traveled in silence for about half an hour, contented with the chill on their skin and the silence of the forest. Elsa wondered what Loki was thinking about, and she kept trying her best to sneak glances in his direction when it seemed he wasn’t looking. He indeed looked like a prince in this environment, his skin white as the snow surrounding them and his hair darker than the trees surrounding them. His eyes were always guarded, she realized; they tended to alternate between an intensity that cut like glass and something that looked like nothing other than heartwrenching sadness.              

               “You’re staring,” he said quietly, not looking at her, but the path ahead.

               Elsa tried to lighten the mood, “You like it,” her cheeky smile faded when he looked unamused, offering only a halfhearted laugh in return. It sounded like a scoff.

               She cleared her throat, “Actually,” the queen said, “You look sad. Like I used to look.”

               He turned to her, looking doubtful, “It’s more…complicated than hidden magical powers, Elsa. I just have a lot on my mind.”

               _Oh…_ she realized, “It’s about Asgard, isn’t it? About why you left.”

               Loki nodded, forcing a smile that hurt Elsa’s heart to look at, “It isn’t any of your concern. I mean that in the best possible way.”

               “The best possible way of hiding is still worse than the worst way of speaking.”

               Green eyes studied her, “You truly believe that?”

               “I do.”

               He was silent a moment, “…You want to know about Asgard. Not half-truths. You want to know the whole thing.” It wasn’t posed as a question; they both knew it was true already.

               “I want to know more about you,” Elsa confirmed, “And as much as I love hearing your eloquent use of words, I’d rather they weren’t shortcuts.”

               “What if the shortcuts are safer?” Loki challenged, gaze darkened slightly, ducking under a tree branch.

               “Sometimes safety is our enemy.”

               He pondered that for a moment, then sighed resignedly, “What would you like to know, then?”

               Elsa paused. There were so many things she wanted to know, so how was she to choose just one?

               “Tell me about your family,” she said quietly, noticing the slight furrowing of his brow. This was clearly a very difficult topic. He’d mostly evaded it before, but she was determined to get him to talk about it. Maybe if he did, he’d feel better. Keeping her problems to herself was what had always made Elsa feel worse.

               “My family…where to start?” he asked himself sharply. She made a point of just listening steadily.

               “How about your father first?” she prompted gently, and he sighed again, calming himself.

               “Right. Odin. Elsa, here’s the truth: Odin wasn’t….he wasn’t….ah….” Loki appeared at a loss for words, “He wasn’t very…fond of me. Thor was the favorite.” He stared at the path ahead, refusing to meet her gaze.

               “Your brother?”

               “No, my…yes. My brother. He was the only sibling I had.”

               “Alright,” she said gently, “And your mother taught you magic, right?”

               “Correct,” he nodded, and with a shock, Elsa realized he was blinking back tears, “She and I were close. Closer than I ever was with my brother or Odin.”

               “That’s wonderful.”

               Loki scoffed, “Not according to my father. He wanted me to be like Thor. To be like him. Elsa, in Asgard, all men are meant to be warriors and I… I was just not like that. I never had the physique or the personality for it.”

               “What?” Elsa frowned, “But I saw you take down the Chitauri! You made it look so easy, and you weren’t even afraid…”

               A shadow crossed over the prince’s face, “Magic is a feminine art in Asgard, Elsa. My mother was kind enough to teach it to me when I didn’t fit in elsewhere but in doing that she signed my death certificate-”

               “Wait, what?” she interrupted, alarmed, “Your death certificate?”

               Loki shook his head, “What I mean is that learning magic ensured I wouldn’t ever fit in with the rest. Elsa, I was an introverted child who was too small in stature to fight effectively using traditional methods and _on top of that_ I learned magic. You can imagine how things were back there for me.”

               Elsa shook her head, “That is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. Magic is so much better than traditional fighting! And I think you could probably beat most people in Arendelle in hand to hand combat, anyway!”

               He smiled sadly at her, “You’re far too kind. But you haven’t seen Thor. He was the perfect child, Elsa. Close with father in a way I never could be. He exceeded at all he did and, on top of that, he was confident.”

               “What does confidence have to do with it?” she asked quietly.

               “Elsa, Thor grew up a perfect model of what Asgardian society wanted him to be. I could pretend to be content with what I was, but it never could convince anyone. There were always whispers. He was the best. It’s as simple as that.”

               “And Odin went along with it?”

               “Even Frigga, to a certain degree. She had authority, but Odin’s word was gospel.”

               “Oh, Loki,” the queen said sympathetically, “That sounds terrible. No wonder you left. I’d hug you, but we’re on horses.”

               He tilted his head, looking confused, “Hug me…?”

               Elsa frowned, remembering his lack of familiarity with non Asgardian customs, “Do they not have that in Asgard? Because if that’s the case, you’ve been missing out…”

               “No,” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, “I just…I don’t understand why…”

               “Why…?” she prompted.

               “Why in the Nine Realms you’d offer me comfort for my petty problems,” he looked away, still puzzled.

               Without another word, Elsa grabbed some snow off a nearby branch, coaxed it into the shape of a ball with the help of her powers, and pitched it towards Loki as hard as she could. It hit him square in the side of the face in a puff of white.

               He turned to her, baffled, “What was that for?” he exclaimed, wiping snow off his skin angrily.

               “Stop invalidating yourself! Everyone has problems, Loki! Why do you not deserve to complain about yours?”

               Loki didn’t have an answer to that.

               “You can’t always push people away,” she continued, “That’s what I used to do, and it tore me apart, hiding my problems like that. It’s not healthy.”

               He blinked, “…Elsa, I-”

               “It’s okay, Loki. Stop apologizing for being human.”

               The prince shook his head, and she still had a hard time believing she’d convinced him. Maybe this was just going to take time.

               “Tell me about your family,” he requested. I assume you and Anna get along better than Thor and I.”

“My parents died when I was still a girl,” Elsa answered, “And I was afraid of my powers, still, since they’d always taught me to hide them. They meant well, I just don’t think they understood what my powers were.”

               “Mm,” he hummed, nodding slowly, “It’s difficult to realize that our parents don’t have our best interests at heart.”

               “Odin didn’t have your best interests at heart,” she agreed, “But Loki; I think your mother probably cares a lot about you, from what you’ve told me.”

               He huffed, “Perhaps before. Not now. Not after I left.”

               “She still loves you. Everyone makes mistakes, Loki. Whether you were right or wrong in leaving she probably still cares. Even Odin might-”

               “I DON’T LIKE TALKING LIKE THIS!” Loki exploded, making Elsa jump. He closed his eyes, seething for a moment before continuing, “It hurts, Elsa, please. Can we just talk about something else?”

               “Okay,” she agreed quietly. Forcing anything would be a mistake at this point. After a moment of silence, an idea struck her. “Let’s play a game instead.”

               He raised an eyebrow, “A game?”

               “Yes, there are lots we could play. We could play the question game, or the insult game, or the never game-”

               “The never game?” Loki wrinkled his nose.

               “Yes, you have to say something you’ve never done, and the other person has to admit if they’ve done what the other person hasn’t.”

               “How does one win?”

               “Well, you don’t really. It’s mostly just for fun. A getting to know you thing,” Elsa explained awkwardly.

               He snorted, “Fun. Elsa, I don’t think you want to get to know me better than you already-” Loki’s statement was cut off when the queen hurled another snowball in his direction. This time, he ducked, and it shattered against a tree behind him. He looked offended.

               “I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again. Stop invalid-”

               “Stop invalidating myself, I know, I know. Yes, Frigga,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s play the game. You’re going first, though.”

               “Alright, but I think the food is in that pack on your horse, so pass me an apple before we start,” Elsa requested, and caught the red apple the prince tossed at her, “They’re sweet, so you’ll probably like them.”

               He took an apple for himself from the bag, closing it as the queen bit into her snack, thinking of a good beginning for the game. Loki examined his own fruit critically for a moment before taking a tentative bite.

               “Never have I pranked my parents,” Elsa started, watching her companion for a response. It warmed her heart to see a crooked smile quickly spread across his face.

               “Ah…”Loki chuckled, “Yes, I _have_ done that. Only once, though. Thor and I were young and it…didn’t end well.”

               “How old were you?” she inquired.

               “We were boys, Elsa,” he avoided the question, “It was before I had even started magic. We replaced all of the sugar supposed to go into a pudding that night with salt and…it didn’t end well.”

               “You certainly weren’t as creative back then,” she teased, taking another bite of the apple.

               Loki rolled his eyes, “Everyone’s a critic. Is it my turn?”

               “Go ahead.”

               “Hmm…” he thought for a minute, “Never have I ever…danced at a wedding.”

               Elsa raised her eyebrows, surprised, “Never?”

               “Never.”

               “Are you just not a dancer? You wanted to dance with me when you first came here.”

               He frowned, “I would hope you’d have realized that that wasn’t _me_. I’ve never been a dancing person. In fact, I’ve never been a party person in general.”

               She nodded sympathetically, “Me either. We can darken the moods of parties together.” Loki smiled at her joke.

               “Your turn.”

The queen took another bite of her apple to buy herself time, “Hmm,” she hummed, “Never have I…kissed a man.”

It got very quiet, and Elsa watched with alarm as all the blood seemed to drain from her companion’s face. She went over the phrase again in her head but there didn’t seem to be anything in it to warrant the horrified expression that now haunted Loki’s eyes. Was this about her? Did he only court ‘experienced’ women? It was a simple enough confession; she hadn’t taken him for the sort that had cared about-

Her expression softened instantly, and she turned to the prince again, now more curious than anything, “…Loki?”

He bit his lip, “Ah…Elsa…”

“You’ve…kissed another man before?” she asked quietly. Loki looked lost; for another few moments they walked in silence among the trees.

“Elsa it’s not…I don’t want you to think…” the prince stumbled over his words.

“But do you mean, kissed a family member? On the cheek? Or actually romantically…?” the queen was getting more confused by the second. If he didn’t like women, why was he here? Was she missing something?

“We shouldn’t have brought this up,” he mumbled, turning away.

“It was an accident,” Elsa admitted, “But if you aren’t…I mean…why would you be…?”

“I don’t…” Loki took a deep breath, “Would you like me to put it simply for you? At risk of you thinking I’m…um…”

“I just don’t understand,” she said gently, “Can you just explain to me?”

The prince sighed, trying to get his bearings, “Elsa, I like men…and women. I have for as long as I can remember. I don’t know why, or what went wrong along the way, but I do. Judge me as you will.” He still wasn’t looking her in the eye.

“Wait,” Elsa frowned, “But you like me, right?”

“Like is an understatement. But yes.”

“So you like…everyone? Do you like Kristoff?” She couldn’t imagine how confusing love could be if that was the case…

Loki wrinkled his nose, finally looking at her, “Allfather, no, Elsa. I just like both, that’s all.”

Oh. That didn’t seem so horrible. Why did he look so sick, then?

“You look ill.”

“Hm,” he said sarcastically, “I wonder why.”

Elsa vowed to get to the bottom of this, “Were you going to ever tell me?” she asked quietly.

The prince looked at her like she was mad, “Of course not! Elsa, this is something one keeps to themselves. It’s unnatural, it-”

“Makes you a monster?” she finished softly, “Loki, is liking both shamed in Asgard?”

He laughed shakily, though there was no humor in the sound, “It’s not, here?”

The queen shook her head. It was uncommon, certainly. Many in Arendelle didn’t know anything even existed outside of women loving men. Although, now that she thought of it, a few years back a princess a few kingdoms away had married another girl. There had been talk amongst the villagers, but nothing horrific. Most people had simply accepted the new fact and gone on with their day. To think that Loki lived in a kingdom that shamed love was…a bit sad.

“No, not really. I mean, I’ve never heard of liking both before, but I don’t really…care,” she fumbled with her words.

“You don’t _care_?” Loki repeated, not believing what he was hearing, “I’ve kissed _men_ , Elsa. That doesn’t _bother_ you?”

She stared at him flatly, “Should it?”

“I… _yes_!” he exclaimed, incredulous, “Yes, it should, Elsa! Allfather…what if you’d been raised by two men? How would you feel, then?”

“I probably wouldn’t think anything of it.”

“But-!”

“Why are you working against yourself?” she wondered aloud, “It’s like you’re trying to convince me to hate you.”

“Because, Elsa, I’m a monster,” the prince pushed, voice trembling.

“Because you kiss men sometimes?” Elsa raised her voice, “Loki, you’re intelligent. Tell me you know how utterly _stupid_ that sounds!”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, mouth agape, “It’s wrong! I’ve been taught my whole life that it’s wrong! So there must be something wrong with me.”

“No, Loki. It means there’s something wrong with _Asgard_ ,” Elsa explained, coming to a realization, “Think about it. They shame you for using magic. They shame you (and others, I assume) for liking men. There’s not something wrong with _you_ , Loki. What’s wrong is what you’ve been taught.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but it was clear to the queen that her words had gotten through. Slowly, his expression softened.

“How can I trust your word?” he muttered, “You’re just a Midgardian girl.”

Elsa regarded him sternly, “That’s another thing they were wrong about. Didn’t you tell me that you grew up believing Asgard was the best kingdom out of all of them?”

He tilted his head, “But that’s dif-”

“No, Loki,” she comforted, “It’s not. And I know you know that, because you left. You knew that Asgard was unjust.”

The prince’s expression became strained again, and he blinked back a few more tears, “Elsa,” his voice cracked slightly, “that’s not why I left.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I can’t tell you,” he evaded.

“Yes, you can. You just don’t want to,” Elsa said patiently, now desperate for him to trust in her, “Please tell me.”

“I TRIED TO KILL MYSELF! ALRIGHT?”

“Stop the horses,” the queen commanded, and proceeded to steer her mare nearer to Loki’s, “You _what_?” she whispered. Her voice was barely audible now, and it took all her willpower to keep it from trembling.

“That’s all I’m telling you about it, Elsa,” Loki said harshly, still trying not to cry, “I will tell you no more secrets today.”

“Let me help you,” she uttered, “Please? If you tell me the whole truth I can help you.”

He was silent.

Forgetting her initial fear of interaction completely, Elsa reached out to put a hand on his arm. He started slightly, watching it at first as though it were something alien, but didn’t shake her off. She gave a reassuring squeeze, and eventually, the prince gave a heavy sigh.

“Elsa, all I can tell you is that I…I wasn’t ever good enough for my father.”

That much seemed obvious to the queen, given all that had come to light earlier.

“But what happened?” she asked, “Why would you do such a horrible thing?”

He looked at her sadly, “Elsa, I can’t tell you.”

“Why?” she pushed, giving his arm another squeeze, “If you tell me, you’ll feel so much better.”

“No, I won’t,” Loki persisted.

“And why is that?”

“Because you won’t love me anymore if you know what I’ve done.”

They both froze, taking in the full meaning of that statement for a minute, and the prince’s eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said.

“I didn’t mean to assume anything!” he hurried, “I fully understand if you don’t…erm…”

“Oh, Loki,” Elsa knew when she said them, the words would be true, “I love you, too.”

He narrowed his eyes at her in disbelief, “Even though-?”

“Yes, even though you like men _and_ women,” the queen smiled.

“Even if-?”

“Yes, even if you couldn’t make your father happy.”

“But what about-?”

“I also don’t care that you think you’re a monster. I judge what’s put in front of me. And I see Prince Loki of Asgard. A magic user with a sweet tooth and a bad habit of assuming the worst about himself. Who always seems to smell like pine,” she added as an afterthought.

“But why-?”

“Just _kiss me_!” Fears completely forgotten, Elsa leaned as best she could towards Loki from her horse, seized him from the collar, and crashed their lips together.

The queen had never thought she would be the one to initiate her first kiss, though now that it was happening, she decided she didn’t mind in the slightest. It was just like Anna had told her. Her heart raced and her lips tingled and she felt _light_. At the initial gesture, Loki inhaled sharply in shock, but soon he too was moving his lips with hers, placing a hand on her shoulder for balance. He tasted very similar to how he smelled; not like pine, but that other, sparkling, bubbly scent that Elsa could never put a finger on, with a hint of apple from their snack. Maybe it was an Asgardian thing.

Loki had just begun to deepen the kiss, when a whinny from one of the horses reminded them of where they were. In a forest, half falling out of their saddles, trying to kiss from one horse to another.

The prince’s horse took a sudden step to the side, forcing him to break the kiss with a swear. His hands awkwardly scrambled on Elsa and her horse, trying to find purchase as he slid sideways with his saddle.

“Just pull yourself back up!” the queen suggested, finally grabbing both his hands in hers.

Loki widened his eyes, “I can’t! I—damn it…”

“Get your foot out of the-”

“I’m _trying_!”

Elsa’s horse snorted and took two steps towards where Loki’s horse now stood, and the queen fell sideways in a similar manner to her companion, so the two now made an awkward bridge between the two animals.

“This was a bad idea,” the prince muttered, voice strained from their position.

“Really?” Elsa asked sarcastically, earning a hysterical giggle from Loki. His grin disappeared, however, when his horse took another step forward.

“ _Shit_ —leg’s free!” he celebrated, spirits sinking once more as he, with one panicked look at Elsa, finally fell off and into the snow, flipping the queen off her horse and effectively dragging her down with him.

Elsa let out an ‘ _oof!’_ as she landed on what she guessed must have been the prince’s back. She quickly lifted herself off of him, and Loki rolled over in the snow, gazing up at her with green eyes.

They stayed like that a moment before helplessly dissolving into a laughing fit. The queen clutched at her sides, doubling over as her companion stuffed a fist in his mouth, shaking with silent laughter below her.

“Elsa,” he chuckled, “I appreciate the sentiment, but next time you kiss me, please don’t do it from a moving horse.”

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had,” she grinned. Silence started to fall on them as their laughter dissipated, leaving the pair to realize what they’d just done.

“What, do you want me to kiss you again?” Elsa finally broke the silence, watching the unmoving Loki with amusement. He gave her a look that distinctly reminded her of a puppy in response.

“Please?” he raised his eyebrows expectantly. The queen was just considering how she should respond to this when a voice made her turn around.

“Elsa! Is that you?”

It was none other than Olaf, still enthusiastic as ever, waving to them eagerly while two horses took turns snapping at his nose, no doubt what had distracted them in the first place and ruined her kiss.

Loki sat up in the snow next to her grumpily, staring at the snowman in disbelief, “ _What_ is that?”

Elsa giggled, “Uh, that’s Olaf, Loki. He’s a friend.”

“Right, alright,” the prince muttered as she got up, “Olaf.” Regretfully, he followed her to where the snowman stood, grabbing hold of his horse in the process.

“Elsa!” Olaf exclaimed in joy as the queen knelt down to shake his hand, “How’ve ya been? Who’s your friend? How are Anna and Kristoff? Are they married yet? How are the ice powers?”

“Woah, woah, Olaf!” she smiled at his enthusiasm, “I’ve been well. This is Prince Loki of Asgard. Anna and Kristoff are fine, but not married. My powers are the same as ever.”

“Ohhh...” the snowman nodded, turning to Loki, who hesitantly knelt down to shake his hand, “Pleased to meet you! I’m Olaf, and I like warm hugs!”

The prince raised an eyebrow at Elsa, “…‘warm’ hugs?” he looked doubtfully at Olaf, thinking exactly what she knew he was. She shook her head quickly, and his returned expression only read ‘ _It’s just so tempting…’_

“Um, Olaf?” the queen spoke before Loki could ruin the snowman’s day, “Why are you so far from the castle? I thought you were staying there for the month?”

“I saw you coming!” he explained eagerly, “And I thought I should say hi, especially since you had someone with you!”

The prince raised another eyebrow at her, still obviously not believing what was in front of him.

“I created Olaf around the time I made my castle,” she explained, “And since it’s kind of early in the winter still, he’s staying up there, since it never gets warm enough to…uh…”

Loki nodded dubiously, “Understood. But, Elsa, you… _created life?_ ”

The queen blinked, “Well when you say it like that, it sounds-”

“Incredible,” he finished, turning back to examine Olaf, “You have more than simple magic, Elsa. This is something else.”

The snowman turned away from Loki’s probing eyes to whisper to Elsa, “You know, I _might_ be imagining things, but I think your boyfriend’s checking me out.”

The prince froze, clearly hearing the statement, and she giggled again, “Olaf; Loki and I are going to head up to the castle. Would you maybe head down to Arendelle and let them know we’re doing okay? Anna’s probably going crazy back there.”

“Ohhh,” Olaf said knowingly, winking at Elsa, “ _I_ see what you’re getting at. No worries! I’ll just, uh, _head on my way_ , shall I?” He started to back away, “Your guys’ secret is safe with me. I understand the whole _couple_ thing; you guys want privacy, I get it!-”

“Elsa,” Loki muttered, and she turned to him with a questioning look, “Does it…er…Olaf have an off switch?”

She just laughed and turned to her horse, all her worries forgotten as her heart sang with the discovery of new love.            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to Loki’s feelings about his own bisexuality, I’ve always interpreted Asgard as a patriarchal society, and I figured that would shape his views on the world, even if it meant thinking poorly of himself.


	10. Chapter 10

“Your friend is most amusing.”

               Elsa and Loki were both back on their horses, and Olaf had long since faded into the distance behind them. That said, the trees were quickly starting to thin as their altitude increased, and the setting sun made it clear that their journey was coming to an end… for the night, at least. Loki felt a need to say something, anything, to break the silence they’d been traveling in since meeting the queen’s strange creation. Silence allowed him to think, and right now his mind was all too active.

               _She doesn’t care what you are._

_Just tell her._

_And tell her you love her, while you’re at it._

_I can’t do any of those things!_

Of course, she knew many of his secrets now. But that didn’t mean the one secret, the one, impossible secret Loki held, was any easier to imagine confessing to her. He’d already told her the evils of the Frost Giants, so what would she think of him, knowing he was one of them? Especially given that their very existence would be difficult to accept. She would no doubt feel deceived, at the very least, and the god really didn’t want to risk that, after…after what she’d said.

               _Oh Loki, I love you too._

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him something like that. Nothing outside of his family for a _long_ time, and none of them mattered anymore. But this strange girl, this strange, Midgardian girl, had decided to love him, despite everything that was wrong with him. And Loki was beginning to realize he loved her back. He knew it was foolish. He knew this was probably among the most _stupid_ things he had ever done, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t content going along with it. Elsa gave him hope, and the god wanted to enjoy the bliss it brought for as long as he could.

               “Isn’t he?” the queen agreed cheerfully, watching the path ahead, “I think we’re getting close. If he managed to wander down from the castle, that probably means we don’t have far to go.”

               Loki stared at her, completely distracted. Allfather, she was _pretty_ …

               He shook himself. _Pull yourself together_.

               “Ah…” he stammered, “Yes, you’re probably right.” _Brilliant response, Loki. Very witty._

               “It feels so strange going back here,” Elsa mused, “I haven’t been to this castle since right after my coronation.”

               “That is understandable,” Loki said quietly, “Thank you for taking me here.”

               She blushed, “It’s no trouble.”

               The trees were definitely getting thinner here, the god noted. They had a good view of the sky now, and the bright array of colors brought by the sunset captivated both him and the queen for a moment, causing a blissful silence to fall.

               Loki looked away from the sky to the real beauty of this forest. Orange was reflected slightly in her platinum hair, and it took her a minute to realize she was being watched. Elsa stared right back at him, and the god unconsciously licked his lips.

               “It’s very pretty here,” he said softly.

               “It is,” she agreed.

               Once again, the god found himself speechless. He held her gaze for another few moments before finally looking away, mind for once scrambling for something to say. Maybe there was nothing he _should_ say. Maybe silence sometimes held more weight than any words could. Hadn’t Frigga mentioned that to him at some point?

               As Loki was pondering this, the trees came to a complete, abrupt stop, and he and Elsa stepped out into a clearing. The god’s breath caught in his throat as he stared up at the view that greeted them, and he was forced to bring his horse to a halt as he marveled at the picturesque skyline.

               The mountaintops looked almost black against the glowing sky, with the snow on them almost blue in the current light. So high they rose that Loki was thunderstruck at how far he must have fallen when he’d first come to Arendelle. Even with his slightly accelerated healing, he was quite lucky he’d crash landed during the winter, when the thick banks of snow were there to break his fall.

What really amazed him, looking up at the mountaintop, was exactly what Elsa had brought him to see. Her castle…her _actual_ castle, gleamed in the light like glass. It was more elegant than _Asgard’s_ architecture, and that was saying something. In fact, it almost made the structures there look…dull.

               “Allfather, Elsa…” the god murmured, mouth slightly agape.

               She shook her head at him, “I know it’s pretty to you, but that was a really dark time in my life.”

               Loki still had his eyes on her masterpiece. Had she really been distressed when she’d created it, or was she just being modest? From how cautious she’d been in revealing her true self to him, he guessed it was the former. But how could someone so broken create something so beautiful? Was that sort of thing possible for him, as well?

               _Of course not. You’re a Frost Giant runt._

“It’s…” he struggled to find words, “It’s beautiful.”

               “Thank you.”

               It was a few moments before they continued their ascent.

<br />

               “We’re going to have to leave the horses here.”

               Loki nodded his agreement. They were nearly at the doors of the castle, but directly in front of them was a deep chasm, crossed only by a narrow, elegant bridge of ice. Hooves would undoubtedly slip on the slick surface, and all that extra weight would be dangerous. Ice was strong, but risking a fall to their deaths was not worth the comfort of having their mounts directly outside the door. Tying them up here was the best option.

               “We can tie them to the posts and carry our supplies,” the god suggested, gingerly dismounting his horse. He couldn’t stifle a gasp as his feet hit the ground; switching from horseback to travel by foot was always relieving, particularly when one had been riding all day. He stretched out his arms and legs for a moment, unaware that Elsa was watching him, her mare already tied up, with a raised eyebrow.

               “What?” Loki asked defensively, finally noticing her mocking expression. The queen smirked.

               “Are you ready? Because you can stretch some more, if you really need to.”

               “Ha, ha,” the god rolled his eyes, starting to take the packs off his horse, “Even the Ice Queen cannot pretend it is comfortable to sit on a horse all day.”

               “Who’s pretending?” she teased, starting up the stairs with her own packs, “I was just pointing out you were being a baby about it.”

               “Elsa, you wound me deeply,” he called after her, and she laughed.

               “You’ll follow me anyway.”

               It would be a little while before the truth of those words finally hit Loki. The god followed Elsa up the stairs, taking his time so as not to slip. The craftsmanship _still_ caught him off guard, and he found himself tempted to run his hands along the glasslike swirls that made up the sides of the stairway. Finally, he and the queen were side by side at the door.

               She turned to him, her eyes a similar color to the ice towering above them, “Are you ready?”

               He nodded confirmation, gesturing towards the door, “Go ahead.”

               To Loki’s surprise, there was no lock system or security of any sort on the front door. Elsa merely gave the twin doors a little push, and they slowly creaked open.

<br />

               Loki marveled at the walls around him, “By the Nine, Elsa…” he set their packs down, and she did the same, “This is…unbelievable.”

               The queen shrugged, her hands behind her back in a humble gesture, “It’s nothing, really. I was experimenting and this just happened.”

               “My goodness,” he stared up at the chandelier, openmouthed.

               “I told you the miniature version didn’t do it justice,” she said coyly, “Didn’t I?”

               He looked back to her, expression unreadable, “Indeed.”

               Loki couldn’t think of anything better to say at the moment, he was so taken aback by Elsa’s beauty. He’d had romances before, sure, but this…this was something else. The god felt like he couldn’t _breathe_ , looking at her now. She made him feel actually inadequate, this Midgardian girl. The term seemed an offensive one to be applied to her. Elsa deserved so much better; better than the Nine Realms had to offer her. Even Asgard was beneath her. He was a pig, undeserving of her affections…though a lucky one nonetheless.

               “Would you…like a tour?” she asked shyly, holding onto one arm in a self conscious gesture.

               _Yes. I’d follow you anywhere_.

               _Yes. Please don’t stop talking._

_Yes. I need to stop thinking._

_Yes. Why don’t you show me to the bed-_

               The god mentally shook himself, flashing her a dazzling grin, “That should be,” he strode towards her, taking her hand in his, “lovely.”

<br />

               “Well,” Elsa led him up an elaborate, curling staircase, “I didn’t make many rooms, since it was so spur of the moment and I didn’t really have a chance to plan.”

               “You’ve mentioned that,” Loki agreed, trying to focus on something other than the electricity currently buzzing in his veins, “I understand layout being unplanned, but the intricacy of everything is striking. Does your magic naturally make patterns so elaborate?”

               “It seems to,” she admitted, “I’ve never had to really think out any of the…designs you see on the doors. It just naturally shapes that way. I think it’s just ice. It has a certain beauty to it. Always symmetrical. I’ve always preferred it to heat.”

               A memory jumped to the forefront of Loki’s mind, giving him a much more unpleasant dose of nerves, “I’ve always been one for cold, myself,” he said quietly, “Though it can be cruel.”

               The queen looked at him with blue eyes, “Heat can also be cruel,” she said quietly, “It’s all perspective.”

               Loki squeezed her hand gently, “Perhaps.”

               “Alright!” her tone brightened, she thrust open a door directly in front of them, “I haven’t been sure what to do with this room, so I’m just going to call it a sitting room. It’s usually pretty bright during the day, so it might be good for reading and things. You can see I started furnishing.”

               Sure enough, the queen seemed to have sculpted numerous chairs, tables, and the like from pure ice and snow. Loki raised an eyebrow.

               “Do they not break? Are they comfortable?”

               Elsa blushed, for reasons unknown to the god, “Um…for Olaf, they are. I never really go up here, so I haven’t furnished it with real stuff, yet. Plus, it’s such a long journey. And if there was ever a particularly warm year, you can imagine what would happen.”

               He frowned, “That would be upsetting. All this work gone to waste.”

               “For the last time,” she rolled her eyes, towing him to the next room on the left, “It wasn’t a lot of work for me. If anything, Olaf would have more reason to be upset. He likes pretty things, so I told him I’d let him decorate if he wants to or has an idea.”

               “I still…” Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Olaf, Elsa…”

               “Yes?” she paused, her hand on the door.

               “Why did you make him?”

               Her hand stiffened in his, and the god turned to the queen, concerned. He’d only wondered…

               “Forgive me,” he apologized softly, moving his thumb in small, comforting circles over her hand. She relaxed, giving a squeeze in response.

               “It’s all right. You just reminded me of… something that wasn’t pleasant.”

               “Tell me?” he offered.

               Elsa grinned in response, surprising him with a tap on the nose with her free hand, “After we’re done with the tour.” Loki was almost reminded of Anna by the playful gesture, and for a brief moment he wondered if the Olaf story included the redhead before he followed the queen into the next room.

               “Sorry about the mess” were her first words as they entered, but ‘messy’ wouldn’t have been in the god’s top 100 words to describe what was in front of him. What looked like thousands of glass beads, strung together in strands as tall as the queen herself, littered the floor.

               “Is this _ice_?” he muttered, gingerly picking up the strand nearest to him.

               “Yeah!” she shrugged again, “Do you like those? Olaf found them on the trees a little ways down the mountain. I never took the path he talks about, but apparently it happens naturally. He must have taken them here to decorate, but not have finished yet.”

               Loki brought the ice closer to his face, examining it, “I am quickly starting to like Arendelle more than Asgard,” he muttered. It was, unfortunately, true. Everything was so perfectly simple here. Things fell into place, into patterns without even having to try. Here no one was ostracized, the future wasn’t feared, there were no wars or feuds or troubles…

               “Good,” she said firmly. The second half of the sentence was unspoken, but Loki could infer it just as clearly as if she had said it aloud. _You can stay longer, then._ It was hard for him to believe that the hand intertwined with his was the same hand that had slapped him a few days before. Maybe that was what made Elsa special. So many Midgardians were so unbearably _simple_ , but she was unquestionably an exception to the rule.

               But then again, Anna had proved him wrong as well, hadn’t she? Bubbly and cheerful one moment and cold and distant the next. What if all Midgardians were this complex? By the Nine, was everything he knew _a lie?_

               “Well, um…” Elsa’s voice shook Loki of his thoughts again, and he noted a slight tremor in it, “The only room left is the….” She trailed off, turning towards the door in question as they stepped out of the bead room.

               The god was about to say something when, to his surprise, she spoke again, sounding less afraid.

               “I’ll just show you, then,” the queen marched off towards what was undoubtedly the bedroom, practically dragging the god behind her.

               “We’ll just see if your decorating skills are up to par,” Loki said sarcastically, praying that the amusement in his voice would ease her fright. It never ceased to amaze him how she could be just as adorable as she was mysterious. How could the same queen who fought a Chitauri be afraid of simply showing him a room in her castle? Of course, there were certain connotations that went along with this particular room, but…

               Without answering, Elsa flung open the door, and the god walked inside behind her. Her resolve seemed to be quickly dissolving; she had nervously crossed her arms again, finally dropping Loki’s hand, to his disappointment. She had fallen dangerously silent.

               He pretended to study his surroundings critically, “Hmm,” he hummed, frowning, “All in all, I’d give you a…seven out of ten.”

               The queen balked; her mind having clearly been elsewhere, “What?”

               “I said, you get a seven out of ten for décor,” Loki smiled crookedly, “Given your resources you had available, the creativity is impressive, but as far as bedrooms go, this is fairly bas-”

               Elsa covered her mouth with a hand, shaking with nervous laughter, “Stop it.” Loki’s chest warmed and he couldn’t resist a smile. She was so lovely when she was happy…

               He took a step towards her, cocking an eyebrow, “Stop what? You’re the one who gave me the tour, and as your critic I like to personally give recommend-”

               She laughed a little louder, now clutching her stomach, “Loki, stop-” she shoved him gently, “I don’t build castles for _you_.”

               The god licked his lips, his smile quickly disappearing from his face to be replaced with a more complex expression, “You already have.”

               A brief silence fell between them. The calm before the storm, the air was buzzing with desire and unspoken words; things that no one ever felt a need to say aloud. The god and the Ice Queen leaned in, and like two stars, their lips collided.

               The kiss was far different from their first. Nothing about it was gentle or hesitant. Now, Loki pulled Elsa closer to him with nothing less than pure _desperation_. He felt her hands on his arms and her lips on his and he _knew_ , he knew that she was now what mattered most to him. Asgard was a petty problem that was no longer relevant. All that mattered was that he get closer, impossibly closer to the Ice Queen. The god pressed their bodies together, deepening their kiss more still as she gasped, his skin tingling where her fingers brushed against it.

               Slowly, he took a step towards the snowy bed in the corner of the room. Allfather, she was so perfect…so lovely....He took another step, then another, not noticing that the enthusiasm in her kisses was lessening, and before either of them had time to really realize what had happened, Loki was on top of her, kissing the Midgardian Queen of Ice…

               “Loki-” Elsa murmured in between kisses, “Wait-”

               The god blinked, slightly dazed. Regretfully, he pulled away from her slightly, eyes glittering down at her.

               “Problem?” he tried to soften his voice as much as he could, though there was still something harsh there that he didn’t think the queen entirely deserved.

               She blushed, looking away, “Um, I just…we should stop…”

               Loki sat up, frowning, “Was it something I-?”

               “No, no, no!” Elsa said hurriedly, “No, Loki, everything was…fine. I just…I don’t want children right now.”

               _Oh…._ That made sense, he supposed. Midgard, especially Arendelle, it seemed, did not come remotely close to Asgard in terms of technology. Of course they would be behind in medicine, as well. Here they didn’t have the preventative measures available to Asgardians.

               _What a grim way to live_ , Loki thought cynically.

               “You have my apologies nonetheless,” he said quickly, getting off the bed of snow completely and holding out a hand to her, “Shall we have dinner?”

               She took the hand, nodding eagerly, “That seems like a good idea.”

<br />

               Elsa cautiously sat down beside Loki, taking the goblet he offered her. They’d laid out most of the remainder of their food, and were currently sitting on one of the fur pelts they’d brought, making a sort of picnic on the main floor of the castle. The queen had opened the doors to the front balcony, so that they could watch the now starry sky during dinner. Neither had said much after their recent failed encounter, and the queen was starting to become desperate to break the silence. To her surprise, it was not she who spoke first.

               “You know, we’re going to have to talk sooner or later,” Loki pointed out, and she nodded.

               “Are things different in Asgard?” she asked, and after his surprised look, quickly backtracked, “Not like that! I mean, not only like that. I just wonder….wonder…” she struggled to find words.

               He tore a roll in half and started buttering it methodically, “Well, since you ask, things are…very different. Both ways. It’s like being in a different world, sometimes.”

               Elsa waited, and he laughed gently.

               “You want to know why I’m so forward,” he inferred, eyes glimmering mischievously at her in a way that reminded her of ice. It was an unpredictable look; she had to be careful so as not to lose her balance.

               “I didn’t think you were overly forward,” she mumbled.

               “Really?” he cocked an eyebrow, and she looked away, “Hmph. That’s what I thought. In Asgard, things are less…protected than they are here.”

               “You mean…?”

               “Making love is more a pastime in Asgard. It doesn’t mean as much as it does here. There isn’t risk of children every time.”

               The queen frowned at him, confused, “But how is that possible?”

               A flash of something almost akin to pity crossed his features, “We have our ways,” he said mysteriously.

               “Have you been with many Asgardians, then?” the question came out sharper than Elsa intended.

               Loki smiled at her, “It doesn’t matter.”

               The queen looked away. That was the smile she liked. It lit up his eyes. Mischief was fun, but there was something undeniably warm behind that look. Loki was undoubtedly damaged, but he wasn’t the monster he thought he was. Elsa knew that, now.

               “You know,” she said quietly, “It wasn’t only because I didn’t want children.”

               He fell dangerously silent, but surprised her pleasantly with his eventual response.

               “…I know.”

               “You know?”

               “Yes. And it’s fine. You seem the more rational of the two of us, anyway.”

               A compliment from Loki that degraded himself as well as elevated her. This was new. No longer was he the arrogant prince who’d continually harassed her, bombarding her with false words and innuendos. He’d…grown.

               “Would you like to know something? About Olaf?” she said suddenly, making a decision. She’d promised to tell him this earlier, but hadn’t been sure about going through with it. Now that he seemed to have proven himself, it was time to share.

               The prince raised his eyebrows briefly, but nodded, “Of course.”

               “He used to be a character Anna and I invented when we were very young. This was before I ever actually…created him. She and I used to sneak out at night and play with my powers. But one time I accidentally…hurt her with them.”

               “Elsa…”

               “No, it’s okay,” the queen persisted, looking at the floor, “She was cured, but I had to be locked up afterwards. So when I think about the time I first invented Olaf I just remember being alone; isolated from everyone but my parents.”

               Elsa felt like she was going to cry, thinking about it now. It had been a long time ago; it was in the past, but it still _hurt_.

               She wanted more than anything to hug Loki. When she looked up at him, he seemed to be debating whether or not to do just that, trying to read as much as he could out of her current expression. There was sympathy in his eyes—he understood what she was feeling. But maybe Loki was used to so little affection that he wasn’t sure how to give it to others. He’d certainly given evidence towards that idea before.

               Suddenly, the queen felt a slight pressure on her hand, and she looked down at it to find that the prince had placed his palm over hers, molding them together in what was, as far as Elsa was concerned, the same thing as a hug, for Loki. Her heart was beating out of her chest, regardless.

               The two sat there in silence for a moment, watching the stars. The queen wondered how far away Asgard was.

               “Loki?” she asked quietly.

               “Yes?” he murmured back. Funny, that they had this entire castle to themselves, and still felt a need to whisper.

               “You can create illusions, and make people see things, right?”

               “I can.”

               “Show me what Asgard looks like.”

               A very quiet moment followed, and Elsa had just started to think that Loki hadn’t heard her speak, when he got up to stand. A brief flash of green circled the walls around them, illuminating the ice, and the queen gasped at what followed.

               It was like she’d fallen into a different world. No longer was she surrounded by frozen walls, all cool colors and simple elegance. The walls that surrounded her were, quite frankly, fit for gods. Everything was _gold_. But not only that. She’d thought Arendelle’s ceilings were high, but the room she was inside looked to have been built for giants. Monolithic windows showed a golden city, with buildings stretching towards the sky like mountains. And, at the center of it all, seated high above her on a gilded throne, sat Loki.

               Only, it didn’t look very much like the Loki she knew at all. This one wore a tall, golden headdress, one that reminded her strangely of horns. The way he sat up there sent up a red flag in her mind, though she wasn’t sure why.

               “Your wish is my command,” the prince smirked down at her cheekily, clearly pleased with her reaction.

               “Loki,” Elsa gaped, standing up, “This… _This_ is where you…live?”

               “Lived,” he corrected, looking irritated, “But yes, this is Asgard’s throne room.”

               The queen let out a hysterical giggle, “You have horns!”

               Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes arrogantly, “Our royals do not dress so simplistically as yours do.”

               “But-!” she spun around, still not believing her surroundings, “This is…I’ve never seen anything like this!”

               “Just because you haven’t seen it,” he said simply, “Does not mean it is not real.”

               “You live like gods,” Elsa muttered, taking a few steps towards the throne, “How was all this built? How long did it take you?”

               “I know not,” he said frankly, watching with amusement as she tried to touch a sculpture, her hand disappearing inside of it briefly, before she pulled it back with alarm.

               “Can you show me your family?” the queen requested eagerly, “Your brother, and your mother, and…your father?”

               He frowned, but did as she asked, and soon a very tall, muscular blond in a red cape and winged helmet stood directly in front of her, smiling arrogantly.

               “Is this Thor?” Elsa was unable to keep the excitement from her voice. Loki’s magic had impressed her before, but to be able to show her this much in so much _detail_ was…unprecedented.

               “Yes,” Loki grumbled bitterly, “That is Thor. The golden son. While he’s here, I may as well add his father in.”

               “Your father…” she uttered as another figure appeared. This one, a stoic looking elderly man, wearing what looked a bit like an eyepatch. Although it seemed somehow…firmer, like it wasn’t made out of fabric.

               “I suppose,” the prince said almost inaudibly, leaving a dreamy Elsa wondering what he was responding to.

               “So this is the king of Asgard?” she asked for confirmation, and was shocked when not Loki, but _Thor_ answered.

               “Indeed,” he said in a deep, strangely accented voice. Now that she thought of it, she supposed Loki shared the accent, “One day, I will take Father’s place as king of the Nine Realms. Together, we will bring peace to all of Asgard.”

               “Oh my gods…” Elsa marveled, slightly disappointed when the illusions of Thor and Odin disappeared. She saw a flash of green out of the corner of her eye, however, and when she turned, all other thoughts vanished as her eyes met the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

               She looked to be around the age Elsa’s mother had been when she’d died. Her hair was as gold as the throne room that surrounded her, and she wore a floor length gown that single handedly put everything in the queen’s closet to shame. Her eyes had the same glimmer of mischief that Loki’s held, though perhaps a bit less pronounced.

               Elsa stared, and was forced to shake herself. This was Loki’s _mother_ …

               “Queen Frigga…” she murmured, still slightly dazed as the woman smiled warmly at her. Looking at her was like looking at a star, only up close and in the flesh. “Loki, your mother is beautiful.”

               Unexpectedly, the illusion around them completely disappeared, all at once, leaving the queen slightly dizzy. The icy room felt much darker now to her now, after being surrounded by so much gold. She turned to Loki, who looked suddenly more than a little bit sad.

               “You have to take me to meet them,” she begged, “Why didn’t you say they were so wonderful? I knew you lived far away, but it’s like another _planet_ there-”

               Elsa froze, noticing the quickly darkening expression on Loki’s face.

               “I’m sorry,” she apologized hurriedly, “That was thoughtless.”

               The prince took a shaky breath, “Elsa,” he said darkly, “You can never meet them.”

               “Not ever?” she asked quietly.

               He thought for a moment, “Well,” he said finally, looking away, “Perhaps someday.”

               “But not soon,” Elsa finished.

               “Yes,” he smiled, eyes sparkling as he took her hands in his, “But perhaps someday.”

               “And you can show me your city!” she beamed, “With the golden buildings!”

               Loki smirked, “Only if you don’t get lost in our palace,” he teased.

               “You’ll introduce me to Frigga, and Thor, and Odin?”

               “Mmm…” he pretended to consider, “How about I introduce you to Fandral and Sif, instead of Odin?”

               “Who are they?”

               “Sif is a warrior, and Fandral is…” the prince struggled a moment, “He’s Fandral. I think he’s a bit like your Kristoff.”

               “I’d like that,” she nodded eagerly, “Asgard is so beautiful.”

               “Mm,” Loki avoided the question, “Arendelle is prettier.”

               Elsa’s pulse fluttered under his gaze. She had just realized how close they were standing.

               “You think so?” she prompted, leaning in.

               “I know so.”

<br />

               Loki pulled Elsa closer to him. They were sitting back on the pelt they’d layed out on the floor, though their dinner was long forgotten. The god had draped another fur around their shoulders, because despite its unnecessary insulation, it was quite a pleasant feeling. The queen’s head rested on his shoulder, just as his arm wrapped around her waist. They watched the stars, uncaring about things of cosmic significance as they looked out the balcony doors.

               “I still don’t understand,” Elsa marveled, “Your palace, Loki…are you sure you aren’t exaggerating?”

               The god chuckled, though in reality he wished desperately that he could tell her the truth of what Asgard was, “I’m sure. That’s exactly the way it looks.”

               “Your buildings are so tall. They’re like mountains.”

               “We have those too,” he said, “But yes, both are tall. Excessively so, compared to Arendelle.”

               “It must be such a change. There to here.”

               Loki sighed, “…A change, yes. But not an unwelcome one. I like Arendelle better.”

               “Because it’s far from your father?”

               He smiled crookedly at her, “Because it’s closer to you.”

               Suddenly, the queen moved and slapped a hand on the top of his head. At first, the god was confused by the motion; it wasn’t until he felt the familiar wet chill of snow that he realized Elsa had created and smashed a snowball into his hair.

               “What was that for?” he exclaimed, feigning offense.

               “I thought we weren’t going to act stupid,” she grumbled, leaning back down onto his shoulder and spiking his pulse.

               “I thought we gave up that act when we fell off our horses,” Loki countered playfully, moving his hand to give her shoulders a squeeze. Elsa giggled, and he could feel each laugh shake her small form, warming his heart.

               They fell silent, each into their own thoughts. The god examined the view in front of him, thinking deeply. Midgard was very beautiful here. It wasn’t so terrible, when the mortals didn’t…try as much. Things weren’t as loud here, and that set it above even Asgard in his mind. Everyone was so loud. Here, things could be silent and no one would think it was shameful. Nothing about Arendelle could be shameful; Elsa ruled it.

               A howl brought Loki back to the present. He’d heard it before, the first night he’d come here.

               “Wolves,” Elsa murmured, moving a little bit closer to him, “We’re…” she yawned, “…safe here.”

               “Wolves…” the god repeated dreamily, the new word sounding strange on his tongue, “Why do they howl, I wonder?”

               “They howl at the moon,” the queen answered, to his surprise, “In packs.”

               ‘The’ moon. Midgardians only had one, so why name it? Loki wasn’t sure why, but he found the idea strangely…cute.

               “You sound tired,” he murmured.

               She looked at him, “I am.”

               Oh, what to do, what to do. They needed to sleep, but sleeping arrangements were something awkward that he’d hoped to breeze over. Now, it was clear that he would have no such luck.

               “We should sleep,” he suggested unnecessarily, “We have to ride back tomorrow.”

               An uncomfortable silence fell. Clearly, she saw the problem as well. They’d already established that they wouldn’t be sleeping together, but whether or not they would actually be _sleeping together_ was another issue.

               “I could make a second bed,” Elsa finally broke the quiet with an idea that, probably, neither of them enjoyed, “It’s only snow. It would take seconds.”

               “Or…?” Loki prompted.

               “Well,” she said nervously, “The other option is obvious.”

               “We’d share the one you already made,” the god mumbled, voicing the other, forbidden idea.

               “…yes.”

               It seemed another silence was about to descend on them, so Loki made a point of speaking before the lack of dialogue became stifling.

               “You know, sleeping together doesn’t have to mean _sleeping together_ ,” he pointed out.

               “I know,” she said quietly.

               “I wouldn’t try anything, Elsa,” the god murmured soothingly, “You’ve made your stance clear. I will honor that. Or if you’d like we could do separate-”

               “I don’t want to be away from you,” she interrupted, her desperation catching him off guard slightly.

               “…I’m right here,” Loki uttered.

               “We should sleep together. I trust you,” Elsa conceded.

               _You probably shouldn’t_ , a voice vocalized from one of the darker corners of the god’s mind.

               “Alright, well let’s go,” he started to get up, but a hand on his arm stopped him from making it very far.

               “I don’t want to move,” she whispered, “Let’s stay here.”

               Loki looked at her incredulously, “But it’s so much more comfortable upstairs. Do you really want to sleep on the floor?”

               The queen’s eyes glittered, “Is it too much for Prince Loki to handle? Sleeping on the floor like a peasant?”

               He snorted good naturedly, “Point taken. Do we want more blankets?”

               “Cold doesn’t bother me,” Elsa winked, already starting to lie down.

               Loki was silent. She was so like him, yet so, so different. After a moment’s hesitation, he copied her movements, moving the fur that had originally been around their shoulders so that it covered them like a blanket.

               They took a moment to get settled, finding a comfortable position so that their heads weren’t on the floor and no one’s arm was getting crushed. Eventually, they were still, the god on his back with one arm behind his head and the other around Elsa, and the queen hugging him close, her head resting on his chest. Loki wondered if she could hear his heartbeat. Either way, she had to know at this point that she held it in her hands.

               “I love you,” the god mouthed the words to himself, and then, on a split second decision, said them a little bit louder, though still barely audible, “I love you.”

               For a brief, horrifying second, Loki thought the queen was already asleep, but this worry was mercifully quelled as she responded with a simple, sleepy, “I love you too, Loki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for all your fabulous reviews and feedback, and I’ll see you next time. ^_^


	11. Chapter 11

               Elsa’s eyelids fluttered, consciousness slowly returning to her as sleep slunk away to the corners of her mind. She could feel the warmth of sunlight on her, but she was so _comfortable_ …a few more minutes couldn’t hurt. She snuggled closer to the form on her right, and was just drifting off again when, to her alarm, it _moved_.

               For half a second, her heart nearly stopped for fear, until the previous night’s memories came back to her. Right. She and Loki had slept next to each other. This was just Loki. The queen sighed, shifting slightly again before going back to using him as a pillow.

               _Loki_ …the thought of him really didn’t do anything to calm her heartbeat. Elsa felt giddy and light. She was next to Loki, the man she loved. She was in _love._ No wonder Anna had been so starstruck the first time it had happened to her. Everything felt…alright. There was so much hope for her, and the future, and Arendelle. She never wanted to go back to her old way of thinking. This was how she would live, whether she stayed with him or not. Cynicism did nothing for her. She wanted to float away on a cloud somewhere, going up, up, up, until she was among the stars with Loki…

               The prince grunted in his sleep, or at least half in his sleep. He turned over on his side, forcing the queen to find something new to lay her head on. She settled for her arm, and decided to focus all her willpower on trying to open her eyes. She’d never seen Loki sleep before.

               Oh, but she was so _comfortable_ …maybe she’d just try to do something else while she fended off sleep. As Elsa breathed, she found herself noting the prince’s mysterious smell once again. What _was_ it? Certainly nothing she had ever smelled before! Perhaps some Asgardian cologne he used? Something he put in his hair? She liked it, whatever it was. If…sparkles had a scent, then that would be it. It seemed oddly fitting to the golden palace he’d shown her with his magic the night before.

               If she hadn’t known better, Elsa would have thought it all a dream. She found it difficult to imagine what she’d be doing or thinking right now, had Loki not started to live with them. What if she’d not gone the same route on her Hunt? She could have been dead, and Loki would never have become unbanished! The queen felt spellbound, and she was loving every minute of it.

               The prince muttered something foreign in his sleep, moving slightly. Elsa could feel his fingers against her hair. At some point in the middle of the night, they must have both moved. She distinctly remembered his hand had been on her waist earlier.

               _I wonder if he likes my hair_ , the queen wondered, suddenly having to fight down a fit of bubbly laughter. She felt like singing, more than she had in quite a while.

               Elsa finally opened her eyes, though her eyelids were still heavy. Yes, Loki was definitely still asleep, his hair slightly more frazzled than usual and a slight frown upon his angular features. With a start, the queen realized that they’d slept in their clothes. She supposed it didn’t matter, but a tiny part of her couldn’t deny disappointment, despite the fact that they’d both seen one another in sleepclothes before.

               Loki suddenly tensed up, gritting his teeth and clenching a fist slightly, his small but sharp intake of breath making Elsa’s heart throb. What was he dreaming about? She was starting to see the appeal in watching people sleep; the queen fought back a smile as she moved ever closer to the prince, her head under his chin, wrapping an arm around him and stroking his back softly. She closed her eyes again, wishing oh so dearly for a dream of him…

               To her surprise, he moved his body away from her slightly, though kept their heads close together. Elsa moved closer again, and she could feel his quiet huff of frustration in her hair.

               “You’re making it hard to sleep,” he murmured groggily, his smile evident in his voice. Loki rolled over on his back, and Elsa fought to keep her grip on him.

               “Just sleep,” she countered, perfectly content with the idea of using his chest as a pillow again.

               “I can’t when you’re on top of me,” he complained. Elsa realized they were mostly off the fur they’d slept on—she was the only one with any contact with their blankets whatsoever.

               “You did it last night.”

               “Elsa…” Loki moaned. She opened her eyes. The sky was pink in front of them; a stunning sunrise. Although a red sky in the morning always meant a wicked storm was coming. Hopefully they could make it back before it hit.

               “Stop complaining,” she teased, attempting to give him a shove that he only laughed at.

               “Then stop trying to push me off the bed.”

               The queen giggled, “We’re not even on a bed.”

               Loki rolled his eyes, “You get the idea. Move over,” he pushed her off of him, and Elsa fell with a thump back onto the fur.

               “I thought cold didn’t bother you?” she asked as he moved to her side, drawing the blanket over them both.

               “It doesn’t,” he explained sleepily, “It’s the _principle_ , Elsa.”

               Elsa couldn’t stop an outburst of laughter from escaping her, “The _principle_?” she repeated incredulously, shaking with giggles.

               “Yes,” Loki repeated, “The _principle_.”

               The queen snorted, “Prince Loki of Asgard won’t let ladies steal his blankets because of the principle…”

               “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous,” he half heartedly argued, starting to chuckle along with her.

               “ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Elsa teased.

               Loki raised an eyebrow, “Who’s ridiculous, now?” The queen instinctively checked her hair, only to find he’d changed it to a hue of green that looked like it belonged on a tropical fruit.

               “Change it back!”

               He grinned mischievously, “Not until you take back what you said.”

               “Never,” she proclaimed, feigning resolution.

               “Mm, hope you like green hair then. I must say, it looks quite ravishing with your complexion.”

               Laughter bubbled up in Elsa’s throat, “Loki…”

               “Yes?” his eyes glittered.

               “Stop making that face at me.”

               He frowned, “What face?”

               She sighed, “Well, you’ve stopped doing it _now_.”

               “What face?” he persisted, grinning again.

               Elsa met his green eyes, suddenly completely serious, “That one,” she said softly, and his grin faded slightly, brow furrowing. “The one where you smile and your eyes sparkle. Do you do that on purpose?”

               Loki looked genuinely confused, “…what? No, I don’t…erm…do it on purpose…”

               “Because it’s nice. You should do it more often.”

               He got very quiet, and for a moment Elsa had thought she’d said something awkward, before he burst out laughing, rewarding her with the very expression they’d been discussing.

               “I _cannot_ take you seriously when your hair is green,” he chuckled.

               The queen wanted to at least pretend to be offended, but she couldn’t when he looked like that. She ended up settling for a simple eye roll.

               “Change it back,” Elsa ordered. Loki shook his head, still laughing.

               “ _Never_.”

               “Well,” she got up, throwing her share of the blanket on top of him, “If you don’t, I may just have to ride back to Arendelle without you.”

               He snickered, using his elbows to prop himself up, “I’m _quaking_ with fear.”

               “You should be,” Elsa said seriously, “You won’t be able to find your way back.”

               “I found my way before,” he pointed out.

               The queen couldn’t think of a witty enough response to that, and started to form a snowball in her hand. When she lobbed it at the smirking Loki, however, he disappeared in a flash of green.

               “Behind you,” a voice purred in her ear. Elsa spun around, heart hammering, to meet the prince’s mischievous gaze.

               “You and your tricks,” the queen murmured.

               “Always three steps ahead, darling.”

               She bit back a smile, “Well, not quite.”

               Loki barely had time to raise an eyebrow before a small blanket of snow was dumped onto his head, covering him in powdery white. Elsa burst out laughing, her voice echoing off of the icy walls as the prince’s mouth fell open. He wiped snow out of his eyes with exaggerated motions, looking two parts offended and amazed.

               “ _You_ …” he started, shaking his hair out and showering the queen with cold as she continued to laugh uncontrollably, now clutching her stomach. “ _You_ are going to pay for that. I can’t _believe_ you got me!”

               Elsa snorted gleefully, trying to calm herself down, “I…” she panted, “I can’t believe it either…”

               Loki crossed his arms, “You are quite the trickster yourself, you know that?”

               The queen smirked, “That’s what happens when you live with Anna.”

               “Mm,” he hummed, “Yes, well, I truly hope you like this shade I’ve chosen, because your hair is _never_ getting back to its original hue.”

               Elsa’s jaw dropped, “What? No!” she gave Loki a shove as he started towards where their bags were piled.

               “I mean it,” he grinned crookedly, dodging the snowball that the queen threw his way, “And if you keep that up, I’m never going to change my mind.”

               “And what would it take to change your mind?” Elsa asked slyly.

               “I am certain,” Loki drawled, “That you will think of something.”

               She cocked an eyebrow, “Will the last of the chocolate I packed suffice?”

               “Hmmm…” he pretended to deliberate for a moment, “I’m not certain you have me quite convinced.”

               Elsa summoned some ice into her palm, raising it threateningly, “Are you sure about that?”

               “Oh, yes, I am certain,” he said smoothly, not looking the least bit concerned.

               She shrugged, “Your funeral,” and for half a second, ice shot out from her palm to lightly coat the floor underneath them in a thousand glittering specks. Loki blinked.

               “Is that it?”

               The queen grabbed the wall next to her to steady herself, fighting back a grin, “Yes, that’s it.”

               Loki stared at her dubiously, “Well, if that’s the case,” he gathered their bags, starting to stand up, “I think I’ll just head on my wa-AH!”

               Elsa burst out laughing once again as the prince lost his footing, falling flat onto his back due to the new layer of ice she’d added. He threw a sharp look in her direction.

               “You little-!” Loki started to get up, but his hands kept slipping out from under him and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get a good hold on the floor, “What _is_ this?”

               “Black ice,” the queen giggled at his struggles. Loki was usually so in control; seeing him slipping around on the floor like a typical klutz was…certainly amusing.

               “The _flower_?” he asked incredulously.

               “The flower is named after it,” Elsa managed to get out in between laughs, “They grow in the winter around the same time the ice becomes a problem, so-”

               “Oh, well isn’t that _charming_ ,” Loki panted, trying fruitlessly to use the wall to pull himself up, “Have you considered you’re only aggravating me further with this trick?”

               “I know you love me,” she said quietly, “You said so.”

               He stopped struggling for a moment, looking at her thoughtfully, “That I did. How are you not slipping?”

               “I haven’t moved,” the queen explained, “If you don’t shift your weight, it’s easier to keep from falling.”

               Loki shook his head, and resignedly snapped his fingers, “There. Your hair is back to normal, _your majesty_. Now get this ice off the floor.”

               Elsa smiled, “With pleasure,” and with nothing more than a few sparkles, she removed the dangerous coating and strolled over to help the prince up. He gave her a sheepish look.

               “I still may take you up on that chocolate, though.”

<br />

               “Alright, so let me confirm: Kristoff lived with _trolls_ for most of his life?”

               Elsa nodded, ducking under a branch, “Yes, that’s right.”

               They had started the long ride back already, and despite the queen’s earlier thoughts, it looked like no storm was going to pass today. The sun shined down on her and Loki when they went through a patch without trees, warming their skin and almost making Elsa worry about Olaf. Although, she supposed it was still cold enough that he shouldn’t have too much trouble—just a little bit more sweaty than usual.

               “Goodness. Was that where he picked up this obsession with ice?” the prince looked quite confused.

               “Well, no…” Elsa considered, “But according to Anna, they were love experts.”

               Loki laughed obnoxiously, “ _Love experts_?”

               She snickered along with him, “When Anna first came to meet them, she thought he lived with rocks.”

               The prince continued to chuckle, “Kristoff took Anna to meet love experts…”

               “Hey!” the queen leaned over and gave him a shove, “Be nice! Maybe I’ll take _you_ to the love experts.”

               Loki’s eyes widened, “Allfather, no. Please, Elsa. I’ll do anything.”

               “You’ll promise not to mess with my hair anymore?”

               “Don’t get carried away, now.”

               Elsa rolled her eyes and allowed for silence to fall. It was so quiet here. She wished it was just a bit more silent so she could hear Loki’s thoughts. Would she ever get to visit Asgard? The queen dearly hoped so. As much as he hated them, Loki’s family seemed…well, they seemed wonderful. Thor whose smile was whiter than snow, Odin with the strange eyepatch, and beautiful, beautiful Frigga. Was it strange that she loved them already, having never met them? They who lived in the gilded palace in the golden city with its monolithic buildings…

               A shuffle broke her out of her thoughts, and before Elsa realized what had happened, Loki had dumped all the snow from the nearest overhanging branch onto her head.

               Her mouth fell open, “You _absolute_ -!”

               Loki snickered, “Go on, you can curse. No one will hear you out here.”

               “ _Oh_ , that is _it_!” Elsa summoned magic into her palms and started pelting the laughing prince with snowballs. He didn’t even attempt to escape them this time, save for holding up a hand to protect his grinning face.

               “Elsa… _stop_!” he laughed.

               “I’ll _never_ stop, you…you…” the queen struggled to find a word suited to the situation.

               “Oh, is the queen of Arendelle afraid to curse?” he teased, earning him a slightly larger snowball to the face.

               “You absolute _cock_!” she finally stopped her onslaught, and Loki’s eyes widened slightly, eyebrows raised.

               “Elsa,” he gasped, “Never have I heard such language from a la-”

               “If you call me a lady I will personally behead you once we get back to Arendelle.”

               “No you won’t,” Loki smirked, “How will you kiss me then?”

               The queen shrugged, “I’ll still have your head, won’t I?”

               He winced, “Are there not laws against that here?”

               Elsa shrugged again, “Probably. But I’m queen, remember? I _make_ the laws.”

               “Ooh,” the prince smiled to himself, “You have me there.”

               She sniffed her braid experimentally, “I smell like pine now,” she complained, “I smell like _you_ used to smell, when you first came here.”

               Loki bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and Elsa frowned at him, “What?”

               He snickered quietly, “Nothing, it’s just…what will they think when you get back?”

               Realization dawned on the queen, “You mean now that I smell like…you…” Goodness. She was never going to live this down, was she?

               The prince’s eyes glittered at her in the fading light, and Elsa realized that it in fact _had_ gotten a bit darker. When she looked up at the sky, dark clouds greeted her.

               “Elsa, I hate to break it to you, but many of the villagers will probably think something entirely different than reality when we get back.”

               The queen watched the sky thoughtfully, “I don’t care what they say. People will always talk,” she met his green eyes again and they greeted her warmly.

               “That’s true,” he said softly.

               “Although,” Elsa laughed, “I would _prefer_ it if we did all we could to minimize rumors. Such as not drenching me in snow that’s been sitting on a pine tree for gods know how long-”

               “Wait a minute,” Loki held up a hand, halting his horse, “Do you hear that?”

               The queen copied him and listened to the silence of the woods. Her ears rang; there wasn’t a sound to be heard, save for their breathing. Actually, now that she thought about it, wasn’t that in itself odd? The last time these woods had been silent…

               No. That wasn’t happening again. It _couldn’t_ be. She refused to assume anything. Try as she might to suppress these thoughts, however, Elsa couldn’t help remembering a brief flash of a certain nightmare from long ago; running through the woods in the dark as monster-Loki laughed at her.

               “I don’t hear anything,” she whispered, and he gave her a concerned look. The prince examined his surroundings with steely eyes in the dimmed light.

               “Have your magic ready,” he mumbled, starting to move forward again, “If something happens, get behind me.”

               “I can fight for myself,” she hissed, and his eyes flicked to hers sharply.

               “I don’t want to see you getting hurt,” he muttered, “You were lucky last time; today it may not go so well.”

               Reluctantly, Elsa nodded. Whatever reassured him, she supposed. This was just a little white lie. If a fight _did_ occur, there was no way in…well, in the Nine Realms that she was going to sit back like last time.

               Slowly, ever so slowly, they proceeded. The queen didn’t feel so afraid, now that she had Loki with her. Certainly different from the last time she’d heard noises in the woods. Though that didn’t do much to calm the worry now swirling in her stomach like a storm. She wasn’t quite sure what she was worried about, and was startled to find that, just for a moment, she felt a red hot flash of anger. How _dare_ someone try to disturb her and Loki’s peace?

               So consumed was she in her own thoughts that Elsa didn’t even notice the white carcass on the ground until she nearly walked over it. With a gasp, she brought her horse to a halt alongside a stoic Loki.

               A dead horse. Its neck and back were twisted at unnatural angles, like they had both been snapped in half. Strangely, there was little blood around the body, ruling out an animal attack. Its mane was shining, though starting to get tangled and ridden with twigs and other small debris. It spread out across the snow like the fur she and Loki had slept on the previous night. Its large eyes were closed.

               At first, the queen was merely surprised; hit with the pity that came whenever one saw a dead animal. It was a sad event, but overall a mundane one; something that, while depressing, usually didn’t do much to affect a person’s day. After a few seconds, however, reality came crashing in on her as recognition hit. This wasn’t just any horse.

It was Stella.

               Elsa covered her mouth as a small cry escaped her. _Stella._ No, this couldn’t be. How could this bloated, broken thing on the ground be her Stella? Stella who had always nuzzled her when she’d had a bad day. Stella who’d never bolted, never lost her footing, except for on that one, horrible day…The queen felt so desolate in that moment, she almost felt nauseous.

               “Elsa,” Loki said gently, “Is this…?”

               “Yes,” she gasped, starting to cry, “This is her.”

               Stella had been alive a moment ago. Loki had _heard_ her struggling to grasp the last threads of life that held her to this world. If they’d gotten here sooner, Elsa would have been able to say goodbye. Instead Stella had died alone in the woods, lying in the snow. For all she knew, her master had long forgotten her.

               The queen sobbed. All this time Stella had been wandering the woods alone, probably trying to find her way back. She’d been _so close_. And Elsa hadn’t even tried to find her. She’d been so preoccupied with Loki and the Chitauri possibly loose in the woods that she’d-

               _Wait_ …was that what had done this? Had Loki been right? _Were_ there still Chitauri out here? Oh gods, who knew how close they were now! Poor Stella had probably been so afraid…she’d been out here with those monsters for days…

               More than anything at that moment, Elsa wanted Loki to hold her. She wanted him to come over and wrap her in his arms. To hush her like her mother once had when she’d cried. She wanted to take solace in the only safety she could find at the moment, which was in his embrace. The queen _needed_ it like she needed air. She needed someone to wipe her tears away and tell her that he knew what to do; that he had a plan of action to keep them safe.

But Loki stayed where he was, eyes narrowed at the carcass like it was a difficult math problem, leaving Elsa to cry into her hand.

               The queen could remember it clearly; the parrotlike mouth, the grey skin, the horrible noise it had made. Loki had seemed concerned over more Chitauri in the woods, so who was to say this wasn’t the work of one? What if they’d seen her and Loki at the castle, and Stella had been right there to connect the dots for them? What if the Chitauri found their way back…to Arendelle?

               Suddenly, Elsa didn’t much feel like crying anymore.

               “We have to get back,” she said with conviction, “They could be at Arendelle by now.”

               Loki looked at her, alarmed, “They? Surely you don’t mean-”

               The prince wasn’t stupid. Why on earth was he pretending he didn’t reach the same conclusion she had? They’d come out here knowing the risk. In fact, hadn’t _Elsa_ been the one to encourage it? This was her doing, and they both knew it. So why was Loki pretending he didn’t understand? For the sake of her _feelings_?

               “ _Yes_ ,” the queen said impatiently, “The Chitauri! Now let’s _go_ , we don’t have time to waste!” she spurred her horse forward, and was forced to halt when the prince’s voice called after her.

               “Wait!” he jumped over Stella’s corpse, leaning closer to her, “Are you mad? Why do you think they would do this?”

               Elsa rolled her eyes, “Who _cares_ why? We have to get to Aren-”

               “They want to lure us back there! We’d be safer up here. I suggest we wait it out for a few days and-”

               The queen balked, “It doesn’t matter what’s _safer_! I’m their queen! If something happens in my absence…” she shook her head, “I’m going.”

               And just like that, Elsa took off down the gray mountainside, Loki reluctantly following her. Snow had started to fall, blending with Stella’s corpse like it wasn’t even there.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss me?

               Elsa’s cape fluttered behind her as she flew across the landscape. Her eyes were narrowed against the wind and snow, icy and wet, and she was dimly aware that Loki followed her from a short distance behind. But that wasn’t what was important now. All that mattered was getting back to Arendelle. She didn’t want to think about the possible consequences of getting back too late, but the image of Stella’s corpse was still fresh in her mind, forcing her to repress her nausea, along with several possible theories.

               The queen didn’t feel sick solely because of her beloved mare’s death, however. No, what _really_ sickened her was how unbelievably selfish she had been. She had _known_ that a storm was brewing when she and Loki had gotten up that morning. _Why_ hadn’t she and Loki left earlier? Instead they’d wasted precious time, flirting and goofing off like lovesick fools. And now they had to find their way down the mountain in a blizzard. Because, apparently, she didn’t know how to be a proper queen to Arendelle.

               She shook her head, spurring her horse further on though the storm. Now wasn’t a good time to think of these things. Despite this, however, Elsa couldn’t help a small twitch of fear at the back of her mind, regarding the figure in green following her.

               Something about the way Loki had reacted to Stella bothered her. Something she couldn’t quite place her finger on. Although, she supposed she could simply be overreacting. This could be her grief talking…right?

               As if he’d heard her thoughts, the prince called out behind her. “Elsa!” he hollered over the wind as the queen halted her horse. She let him catch up. Now, even though they were face to face, she had to strain to hear him. “This is unwise. We need to seek shelter; visibility is low enough that-”

               “We need to get to Arendelle!” Elsa interrupted him, tired of having this conversation. There wasn’t time to think of their own well-being when her people were in danger.

               “If there _were_ Chitauri here, which we don’t know for certain,” he growled, leaning in closer, “this storm would do nothing to hold them back.”

               “I don’t care!” she shouted passionately, “You and I both know that they killed Stella. I know because you tried to keep me from coming back to Arendelle. Now _let’s go_.”

               The queen turned away from her companion to continue her fight against the wall of white buffeting against them. For the first time in a long time, she felt cold.

<br />

               Loki’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Elsa leave. There was a terrible weight in his chest, freezing him in place like the icicles hanging off the trees. He could feel every worry, every fear that he had previously suppressed creeping back, ever so slowly, to the forefront of his mind. And now, he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d have Elsa to distract him.

               It was crushing.

               She was going to find out. Beautiful, brave, _kind_ Elsa was going to know he was to blame for whatever havoc the Chitauri had wreaked in their absence. Loki was torn between his despair at potentially losing her and the overarching worry of what the Chitauri wanted with him. His clock was ticking; soon, he’d be alone again.

               The thought hurt more than he’d expected it would. Elsa still thought she would get to meet his _family_ someday; how much longer was he going to deceive her?

               A little bit longer, at least. Just a little bit. He’d lied to loved ones before, so what made this any different? It was for her own good. It hurt less this way. Loki was beginning to forget what life was like _outside_ of lying.

               The god didn’t speak to Elsa for the remainder of their descent down the mountain.

<br />

               “Elsa!”

               Loki watched as Anna came running to her sister, anguish written in her every feature.

               It had taken another hour and a half of silent descent down the mountain for the queen and Loki to reach the city. In that time, the storm had let up slightly, but night had also fallen. Large, fluffy snowflakes drifted down from an indigo sky, standing out against the god’s hair. He didn’t even notice; only tightened his grip on the reins of their horses, knuckles whitening.

               A large group looked to have been waiting for them a short ways inside the city gates. There were about fifteen guards, along with Kristoff and Anna, present. Olaf was nowhere to be seen. The god couldn’t see any damage to buildings from here, so it was clear they’d been blessed with a minor attack. Of course, to a society as primitive as this, the scale was a bit warped. An actual, full throttle Chitauri attack would leave a place like this a crater in the ground.

               Loki pushed that thought from his mind, returning his attention to the now embracing sisters.

               “What took you so long?” the redhead asked, pulling away. Elsa didn’t meet her gaze when they broke apart.

“We got caught up in the storm,” she said lowly, still not looking at Anna. The redhead’s chest rose and fell increasingly quickly as her eyes searched her sister, before it stopped all together. Eerily slowly, the princess of Arendelle moved her suddenly icy gaze to Loki.

               “Liar,” she proclaimed firmly, starting towards the god, “You’re lying. What really happened?”

               Loki watched impassively as Anna stared him down, “You think,” he said smoothly, “Your sister a liar?”

               “No, I think _you’re_ a liar,” the redhead said darkly, raising her voice to a shout, “And _I_ think it’s weird that you lured her away so those…those _things_ could attack us! Ten people are dead, Loki! And it’s all _your fault_!”

               Loki winced, not at Anna’s words, but the small, pained gasp that escaped Elsa behind her.

               “ _Ten_ …?” the queen’s voice was weak, and she’d gone very pale, “ _Ten_ people?”

               “Yes,” Anna still didn’t look away from Loki, “Ten people. Because _he_ brought those monsters here.”

               “And why,” the god leaned closer to the redhead, sneering, “Am I alone to blame for this infraction? She _chose_ to come with. It was her _idea_.”

               “Shut up!” Anna drew her palm back and cracked it against Loki’s cheek, the noise echoing throughout the entire square. A few guards flinched; the god just hardened his gaze. As much as he hated to admit it, the unconscious step back that the redhead took afterwards was…satisfying.

               He knew it was a lie, and a lie that would do nothing to help his case, but in that moment, Loki didn’t care. All that mattered was that yet again, the odds had been stacked against him. Once again, he’d been given the short end of the stick, and for that reason, he leaned closer still to a slightly unnerved Anna and murmured, barely audibly,

               “Try that again, and I’ll see to it they come for Elsa next.”

               The princess’s breath left her in a puff of steam, her expression of horror slowly contorting back into one of hatred as she stepped away from Loki, only to have her sister march forward to replace her.

               “Stop it,” Elsa ordered shakily, standing between them, “Stop it now,” she threw an unsure glance in Loki’s direction, “We can figure out who is at fault later. Right now I need to see what…happened.”

               Anna nodded at her sister, “Okay,” she softened her voice slightly, “Let’s go.”

               When Loki started to follow, Kristoff, who was following at the rear of the group, turned around and stopped him with a hand to the chest, “Not you,” he growled.

               The god didn’t protest, “Why does everyone think this is my doing?” he hissed, handing the reins of the horses over to a rogue servant, who promptly led the animals away.

               “People like you never understand why-”

               “No, truly!” Loki persisted, hatred fueling his every word, “I’m curious. Why is everything around here Prince Loki’s fault?”

               “You want to know why?” the blond cocked his head to the side mockingly, his breath steaming in the god’s face, “You show up here, at a party you weren’t invited to, apparently injured, but ready to flirt with Queen Elsa. You persist to the point that you get yourself banished and, surprise surprise, the very next day she gets attacked by some sort of monster in the woods, which you just so _happened_ to be around to save her from. Suddenly, she’s _in love_ with you, and later, when you two are off on your little trip to fantasyland, Arendelle gets attacked by not one, but _three_ monsters. You killed ten villagers today, and I’m going to find out what your secret is, _Prince Loki_. And as soon as I do, you’ll be hightailing it back to _Asgard_ as soon as your legs will carry you. Wherever that is. Are we clear?”

               Loki nodded, “Crystal,” he said, wanting his voice as hard as the word it formed. Instead, it cracked like ice.

               “Good,” Kristoff shoved him away roughly, the god sneering after him, “And stay away from Anna!”

<br />

               Elsa’s heart hammered as she and Anna walked in silence to the city square, where the bodies of the dead were apparently laid out. She felt sicker than she had seeing Stella’s corpse that morning, and that was saying something. This wasn’t a dead horse. This was tendead _people_. Her subjects, and she’d failed them. She’d failed them so immensely she didn’t think she deserved to be called a queen.

               The streets were almost completely empty, and Elsa and Anna’s footsteps echoed eerily in the midnight air. The silence between them was heavy.

               “How was it?” the redhead asked quietly, taking her sister aback.

               “…Are you serious?” Elsa asked incredulously, shocked that of all things, _this_ was the first thing Anna would inquire about.

               “Just being polite,” the younger girl mumbled moodily, “You know, Olaf thinks you two are really cute together.”

               “Anna,” the queen said hoarsely, “Please. We can do this later. Just tell me about the attacks. Did you see them? How much do the people know? How many of them were there?”

               Sighing, Anna watched the path in front of them, dark save for what was illuminated by oil lanterns held by the guards or hung on the sides of buildings. It struck Elsa just how old her little sister looked in that moment.

               “There were three. Just three. When you’d said ‘monster’, I didn’t know what to expect but…” the redhead covered her face with a hand, suddenly fighting back tears and looking very, very young, “Elsa…” she turned to the blonde, despair rolling down her cheeks, “They were horrible. Just _horrible_. They looked like people but… _not_ like people. And they were so strong, too. They were first sighted by the bakery on the left side of town. I think they spent most of the time on top of buildings but…some people got in the way. They just…broke them, Elsa. Like they were twigs. I could hear the snap-” her voice ended in a croak as she finally broke down.

               “Shh, Anna…” Elsa pulled her sister into a hug, now blinking back tears herself, “It’s fine,” she reassured shakily, “It’s over now.”

               But was it?

               “They…they just left after a little while. Their _voices_ , Elsa…They talked to each other in those horrible voices. It was like they were looking for something. But they left without _anything_ …not even food. What kind of monster doesn’t even eat food?”        

               “I don’t know,” Elsa soothed gently, hugging her sister a little tighter, then finally letting go, “Loki thought they might be back. We found…we found Stella dead in the woods. The same way you said people died here. He tried to keep me from going back. He was worried.”

               “You found Stella dead?” Anna’s voice was barely a whisper, “Oh, Elsa. I’m so sorry.”

               The queen grabbed her arm nervously, an old habit, “I just can’t believe this. It’s like a nightmare…”

               The redhead flinched, but didn’t say anything. The two started walking again.

<br />

               The bodies were layed out in rows, two of five, in the town square. Each was covered with a deep blue blanket, snow starting to obscure the original color of the fabric as it fell.

               Elsa’s heart had been beating up a storm, faster and faster, as they’d gotten closer to their destination. But now that they were here, now that she could finally look upon her dead subjects, she felt strangely calm. Maybe because she felt too much.

               The guards stood by stoically when the queen and Anna entered the square. The princess had tears in her eyes, though she didn’t utter a single sob. Elsa took a few steps closer to the bodies before making a decision.

               “Uncover their faces,” she ordered the guards, voice regal and cold. She wondered if that would be how citizens of Arendelle would see her from now on; the queen who didn’t care about them…

               Silently, a few men stepped forward to obey the order. In the silent night, the rustling of fabric and the clack of shoes on cobblestone sounded as loud as canon fire. The guards stepped back into line, and Elsa, concentrating on forcing herself to breathe, stepped forward to view the first line.

               The first face was wrinkled and elderly. It wore spectacles, and had wiry, short, silver hair. Elsa didn’t recognize the man, but she knew from the shard of bone jutting out from his chest that he didn’t deserve the fate he’d met. No one deserved that. Not even Hans had.

               Next was a girl. Young and raven haired. The queen recognized her with a pang, making her breath leave her in a shaky huff. It was one of the girls who had talked to her and Loki at the festival. Only, this was the one that had stood in the back, while her friends talked. She’d been the only one that hadn’t harassed Elsa. The silent girl.

               The next face was unknown to Elsa once again. This time, it was a short, brunette woman. She had streaks of silver in her hair, and dark circles under her eyes. It suddenly occurred to the queen that she had no idea of when these attacks had precisely taken place. She knew she’d have to ask eventually, but right now, that was something her heart simply could not bear. Surely, they could not have been dead long if they hadn’t started…decomposing yet.

               Guiltily, Elsa moved on to the next body. A teenage boy, he looked no older than fifteen. His straw colored hair reminded the queen of Kristoff, making her more than a little sick to her stomach. This was somebody’s son. This was somebody’s _friend_. This was _somebody_. Or had been somebody.

               A memory flashed to the forefront of Elsa’s mind. Men were surrounding her; she was afraid…so afraid. Fear quickly turned to rage as she created a wall of ice, pushing one of them farther and farther away from her. Another had a needle of ice extending towards his throat. Elsa wanted them to keep struggling. She _wanted_ to be a monster…

               She remembered sending a shard of ice through Anna’s heart, once when it was small, and once when it was fully grown. Though one could argue that her sister’s heart had always been big. Big and growing. Of course Anna had forgiven her. Anna could forgive anyone.

               _Conceal, don’t feel._ Maybe Elsa would have been better off staying shut in…maybe…

               The face of the next victim froze the queen’s thoughts, along with her feet. It seemed even the falling snowflakes paused in midair; the storm taking a moment of silence. Elsa could have sworn that for half a second, her heart stopped. She hadn’t recognized the face when it wasn’t animated, telling her off for not getting up quick enough or ripping a nice dress.

               Mia’s arms were crossed over her round stomach, her normally rosy cheeks pale as snow.

               A broken noise escaped Elsa’s throat, and her hands started to tremble, “No…please no…” she shook her head at Mia’s body, as though maybe if she begged enough it would come to life again.

               This was Mia. Mia who had brought her soup when she’d been sick. Mia who had always been a guaranteed _constant._ Even when Anna or Kristoff had been moody or irritable, Mia had always been there to help Elsa through. She’d been stern sometimes, but in a way, she’d been like a mother figure. She’d always had Elsa’s best interests at heart; always wanting nothing less than the best for her. And now…now she was gone. Because of Elsa.

               …Mia had never liked Loki.

               “No…” the queen dropped to her knees next to the body, her broken sobs echoing through the square. Even when a gentle hand alighted on her shoulder, even when a familiar hug from Anna encircled her in warmth, Elsa couldn’t shake her feelings of desolation. She didn’t think she could handle looking at another row of bodies. Another row of reasons why she was a monster.

               “Anna…?” she choked out.

               “Elsa…”

               “Why was…how…?”

               “She was out in the gardens. While you were gone, she was just doing miscellaneous things around the castle and…she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

               Elsa felt like she was trapped in a nightmare, “Is there...anyone else I’ll recognize?” she asked shakily.

               “…no,” Anna answered softly, continuing to hold her sister close.

               “I…we need to bury them-”

               “It’s not safe,” the redhead interrupted firmly, “Even for us, out here. We don’t know if they’re going to come back, or when. So for now, we’ll just hold the bodies in the castle crypts and wait for this to blow over. The ground is too frozen to hold a proper burial right now, anyway.”

               Chilling silence fell over the square once more, and Elsa quickly stood up, her heartbeat quickening in a way that was all too familiar. She had to get out of here.

               “I need to be alone,” she announced hastily, turning away from Anna and taking care not to look at the bodies on the ground, “Bring the bodies to the crypt with utmost haste and ensure that no subjects are outside their houses until further notice.”

               “Really alone?” Anna called after her, making the queen stop in her tracks, “Or alone with Loki?”

               Elsa didn’t so much as look over her shoulder to acknowledge the question.

<br />

               Loki paced his quarters nervously, counting his steps as he went. He imagined anyone that looked through his window from the outside would think him a madman. The god didn’t care.

               _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, turn, one, two…_

It was well after midnight, but he didn’t feel like sleeping in the slightest. For one, his mind was working a mile a minute and he seriously doubted his capability of shutting it down. Then there was the fact that Kristoff, Anna, and who knew how many other residents of Arendelle now hated him. Loki had pictured his death many times, but being smothered in his sleep by a Midgardian was _not_ an appealing possibility.

               And, lastly, the Chitauri were definitely here, and they were definitely looking for him. _This_ was the reason Loki’s nails were chewed down far enough that they bled. This was the reason he kept crossing and uncrossing his arms, hands tightened into fists with a ferocity that turned his knuckles white.

               _Five, six, seven…_

               He had no way of avoiding them. He had no defenses, nothing. There was literally no one who could save him from them. He could run, yes, but what would that do? They would still catch him eventually. He had no real Midgardian currency, and while he could always use magic to fake it, he _still_ had no way out of this realm.

               There was no way to escape.

               His only hope was that they would look elsewhere, after not finding him in the city. But even that was temporary. Eventually, they would realize where he was. And then they would attack again and again, killing any of Elsa’s people that got in the way, until they had him.

               The god caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, freezing him in his tracks. His hair had lengthened slightly. Not much else seemed to have physically changed, but Loki nevertheless felt like he was staring at a stranger’s reflection. He moved in closer to the glass, examining green eyes critically.

               _I look like a Midgardian_ , Loki thought. It was true, even outside of the clothes he wore. While they certainly helped the image, they hadn’t suited him so well when he’d first arrived here. He’d held himself taller, before. Now there was something emotional that he carried with him, like a patch on his sleeve, bringing color to his face and character.

               It was alarming.

               Being an apathetic god was, in Loki’s experience, far less painful than being a person. If he allowed himself to feel, he allowed himself to hurt. Maybe that would be what allowed him to escape this alive…

               _What about Elsa?_ a quiet voice from the corner of his mind spoke up.

               The god huffed quietly, hating the way his expression changed as soon as the queen crossed his mind. But that didn’t change the very real problem she posed. Elsa was the one reason he had to hold on to emotion. She was all he had anymore, despite being a Midgardian. Loki _needed_ her. He needed her, even if it hurt.

               He wanted to see her. Would she be back in the castle by now? Surely, they would want to be inside as soon as possible, in case the Chitauri were still around, which, undoubtedly, they were. But where to look first? Maybe he should try the library…

               No. Elsa would be upset. He’d seen her face when they’d arrived inside the gates. She wouldn’t want to cry in such a public place. Her room would probably be the place to check…

               A quiet knock sounded at the door, making Loki discard his entire train of thought. There was only one person who would be knocking so softly. In fact, there was only one person who would be knocking on his door at all.

               “Enter,” he called out in a measured voice.

               Elsa was very pale when she slipped through the doorframe, hunched over and trembling slightly. She didn’t look at Loki as she shut the door.

               It hurt the god’s heart to look at her.

               “Elsa…” he strode over to her as she broke down in quiet sobs, “Hush. I know, I know…” Loki carefully wrapped his arms around her and led her to the bed so they could sit. He could feel every gasp shake her body.

               “It’s my fault,” the words were barely audible, “It’s my fault, Loki. I…I wanted us to go. I was so _selfish-”_

The god watched with only mild fascination as ice spread from her palms, forming a thin sheet over the bedspread. The queen suddenly jerked her hands closer to her body, shaking like a leaf as she hastily stood up.

               “I should go,” she said hurriedly, a faint blue still visible from the center of her fists, “I don’t want to hurt you-” She started towards the door, and had already taken a few frantic steps before Loki spoke.

               “Elsa,” he called after her, “Wait.”

               The queen paused, slowly turning to face him with puffy red eyes, “I don’t want to hurt you,” she repeated hopelessly. The words felt like a punch to the gut for Loki; _she_ was worried about hurting _him_? How perplexing was that?

               “Come back?” he offered, jerking his head towards the bed, “Please?”

               Elsa stayed where she was.

               “I don’t think either of us want to be alone right now,” he coaxed. It was true. Loki didn’t think he could bear the thought of Elsa crying by herself somewhere. And when he had so little time left, he didn’t want to be apart from her, either.

               The queen cautiously started towards the bed, and Loki stood to meet her, wrapping her in his arms a little bit tighter this time when they sat down. Elsa buried her face in his shoulder, and the god felt each of her hot tears as it fell. They sat like that for a few minutes, him stroking her hair as she cried, before anyone said anything more.

               “Mia,” the queen sobbed, catching Loki off guard slightly.

               “Mia?”

               “She’s…dead…” Elsa’s shakes increased in intensity as she choked on her sorrow.

               “Shhh….” Loki soothed, copying what Frigga used to do. He supposed it was probably different than most Asgardian men would comfort their partners, but _damn it all_ , this was how he would have wanted to be comforted, “Elsa, it’s not your fault.”

               “I’m a monster.”

               The god froze for a second before catching himself. There was certainly a monster in this room, but it wasn’t the queen of Arendelle.

               “That’s nonsense. You’re no monster, Elsa. You’re a better queen than anyone could hope for.”

               “But-”

               “I followed you there. I had as much a hand in your not being present as you did. And neither of us could control the presence of the Chitauri.”

               A silence that Loki could only label as disturbing followed that statement. Eventually, Elsa lifted her head to meet his eyes.

               “…So…it wasn’t you?”

               The god licked his lips, “…I don’t want them here, Elsa.”

               “But they’re here for you? They want you?”

               Loki studied his companion’s eyes. Beautiful blue; filled with sadness and light and devotion. Many things that he would likely never feel again. They weren’t accusing… rather, they were pleading. Begging him to tell her that it wasn’t true. But what else could it be?

               And how could he lie to her face?

               The answer seemed quite clear to the god, who simply leaned in and kissed her, gentle and slow. No happiness was to be found in that kiss, instead there was only desperation. Their lips were feather light on one another, not helping at all with Loki’s sense of hopelessness. There was no bruising of lips, no fingers tangled in hair. Instead, just two damaged souls, who fell asleep together afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it was a long wait. Personal reasons, sorry. BUT here it is. Hope you liked it, and I’ll try to get up the next chapter relatively soon. ALSO, the tab for story updates on my blog is no longer under Loki’s helmet. It’s in the same place, but underneath a demonic looking symbol in red. I decorated for Halloween early ^_^ See ya next time.


	13. Chapter 13

               _The forest surrounded Elsa in blackness, casting her world in shadow. Her heartbeat thrummed and her footsteps crunched painfully loud in the deep snow, seeming to echo around her, all the way down the mountainside._

_It was a beautiful night. The stars shone off the ground from an indigo sky, making the world underfoot almost glow. The queen looked up at the cosmos, wrapping her arms around herself. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky tonight, and yet, she couldn’t seem to find the moon anywhere. There was only an endless scattering of stars, extending outward forever. How small she felt, standing here. The trees had zero hope of reaching the heavens above her, and even they towered above her by at least ten men._

_A breeze rustled the branches, sending a few needles tumbling to the ground. Elsa inhaled the familiar scent of pine, shivering. Where was Loki? She felt like she needed to look for him…needed to tell him something…_

_A familiar howl sounded from disturbingly close to her, making every hair on the back of the queen’s neck stand on end._

_Chitauri._

_She would recognize the sound anywhere. The monster that had attacked her in the woods. The beast that had killed Mia. It was here. Here for…her? Oh, gods, she had to find Loki…_

_“Elsa!” her handmaiden’s cry for help was all the queen needed to hear before she started running._

_Her feet moved painfully slow; heavy like they were anchors. Elsa panted in desperation and tears started to build in her eyes as she struggled onward, praying that she could reach Mia in time._

_Finally, with one last push, the queen stumbled into a clearing. Branches scratched at her faces as she fell forward into the snow, but at least she was here. Mia…she had to get to Mia…_

_Elsa raised her head, and her heart nearly stopped for fear._

_Loki stood over Mia’s dead body, a vision in gold, accompanied by two Chitauri. The moonlight shone off of his strange Asgardian armor and reflected off his pale skin, making him two parts beautiful and terrible. He posed like a king having his portrait taken; one leg propped up on the body like it was a step stool…and his poisonous green eyes glinted at Elsa hungrily._

_The queen turned to run, heart now beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, but it was too late. Her stomach dropped as she felt a huge hand grab her from behind and lift her into the air, feet kicking. Beady emeralds watched in amusement while she squirmed in the Chitauri’s grip._

_“Stop,” Loki requested smoothly, and suddenly Elsa was falling. She landed face first in the snow, and the monstrous prince chuckled._

_“Elsaaaa…” he sing songed, laughing again and making the queen’s stomach squirm. Loki had teased her before, surely. But that had all been in good fun. This was clearly malicious._

_She lifted her heavy head to look up at him, and, to her surprise, the prince helped her up. For a split second, she was actually fooled by the gesture, grabbing his arm to steady herself. It was ice cold._

_Loki leaned in close to her, mouth slightly open just enough so that Elsa could see a glimpse of silver between his teeth. Ordinarily, she would have been exhilarated by the action—now she was abhorred by it. Before she had a chance to shove him away, his mouth twisted into an awful grin as he threw her down on top of Mia’s body._

_“Witch,” he hissed, having a good snicker at her once more. The queen felt tears beading in the corners of her eyes as her chest tightened._

_No…she mustn’t cry. Elsa sat up again, gingerly wrapping her arms around Mia’s body and rolling it over in the snow. She gasped at the face that stared back at her._

_Anna’s eyes were blank, just as they had been when her heart had been frozen. The queen could even make out each individual tear that had almost been shed, now frozen in time with the rest of her body._

_Her fault…it was all her fault. It was happening again…she’d failed her sister again…_

_Tears ran down Elsa’s cheeks as she hugged her cold sister close, “Anna...Anna, no…”_

_“Be careful, darling,” Loki purred in her ear, “Don’t slip.”_

_Anger and vengeance surged through the queen, and she turned over her shoulder to confront her tormentor. She wished she hadn’t._

_Loki’s skin was thick and leathery blue, patterned with cryptic designs that Elsa could only associate with some lost, forgotten language. His eyes were bright scarlet, and less than an inch from her face._

_Suddenly, there was nothing behind the queen. She knew she crouched at the edge of a cliff, the air cold and empty on her back. The mountains around her scratched the sky, jagged and rocky, and snow buffeted her from all sides, making it hard to see. Elsa had to move, but Loki was right in front of her, blocking her way._

_“Elsa…” Loki’s teeth gleamed as he grinned down at her, shaking his head like she was the best joke he’d encountered in a long time, “Elsa, Elsa…”_

_Without warning, he delivered a sharp kick to the queen’s gut that sent her tumbling over the edge and gasping for breath. Elsa had assumed Loki was strong, but this was more than she could have anticipated. He sent her off the cliff with the ease of kicking snow. She just barely managed to catch hold of the edge before she fell to her death, but it was covered in ice, slick and freezing cold. Her fingers cramped, trying to find a grip._

_“Elsa, shhh…” Loki crouched down in front of her, and the queen suppressed the urge to lean away from him. Her feet dangled in the open air._

_The monster put a freezing hand to her cheek, eyes affectionate in the most twisted way possible. He smiled smugly, then, without warning, the expression melted from his face, leaving nothing but ice behind. A flinty gaze met Elsa’s, and Loki put both of his blue palms on top of hers, opening his mouth as a metallic tongue shaped three last sentiments._

_“Monsters don’t weep.”_

_And then he threw her off the edge, screaming._

               Elsa shot up in bed, breaths rattling her chest with the same intensity as if she’d been drowning a moment before. She was soaked in sweat, and blankets were twisted around her so tightly that she suspected it was cutting off circulation slightly. It was then that she noticed large hands fussing over her, reminding the queen of the blue ones that had thrown her to her death a moment before. She jerked away violently, turning to her attacker with a ferocity that she hoped matched his sadistic—

               Loki stared back at her with wounded eyes, and Elsa let out a horrible, shuddering breath, starting to sob.

               “Elsa, shh…” the prince soothed, sounding so like the Loki from her dream that she only cried harder. He wrapped his arms around her slowly, fingers curling around her shoulder with a hesitance she’d only ever known to him.

               _Loki_ , the queen tried to focus on her breathing. This was Prince Loki of Asgard. Anna was still a few rooms over. She was safe in her room, in the center of Arendelle. It had only been a dream…only a dream…

               “I tried to wake you, but you wouldn’t,” he rocked her slightly, “You called for Anna. I wondered if you would fall off the bed, you tossed so much.”

               Elsa could feel her heartbeat starting to slow down, “I…” she said shakily, “I had a nightmare.”

               Loki went very still, “Would you like to talk about it?” he asked cautiously.

               The queen shivered, remembering the monstrous version of the prince her mind had conjured, “No. Um, well…” she drew one last, shuddering sigh, “It involved you.”

               She felt Loki give a small nod, “I see.”

               After a moment of silence, the prince abruptly detached himself from her and stood up.

               “Loki, wait-”

               “I’m going to fetch some breakfast from the kitchens for us,” he interrupted curtly. Before Elsa had a chance to protest, he was gone.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Loki seethed as he strode briskly to the kitchens. He knew it wasn’t fair to Elsa to get this angry over something she had no control over, (in fact, he should be happy that she was honest enough to share it with him) but the god had a horrible, sick feeling in his stomach that he had played the role of monster in her dream. _He_ , after all this time, was still a source of nightmares.

               _I am what parents warn their children about at night_ , Loki thought bitterly, remembering his argument with Odin from what seemed like eons ago. It made him want to punch something.

               “Loki!”

               Scowling, the god stopped in his tracks, reluctantly turning to face his addresser. Anna purposefully strode towards him, several hairs already flying free of their braids due to the speed of her stride. She practically skidded to a stop in front of him, eyes as fiery as her hair.

               “Where’s Elsa?” the princess demanded.

               “In her chambers,” Loki growled, glancing at the kitchen doors behind him. If only this dumb Midgardian bitch would stop talking, perhaps he could get back to Elsa before she died of hunger-

               The god mentally shook himself. What was he saying?

               “I know you spent the night there,” Anna lowered her voice, leaning offensively close to him and narrowing her eyes, “And I just want to say, if you did _anything-_ ”

               Loki snorted caustically, startling a servant walking past them, “Anna, my _sweet_ princess,” he gave her the most infuriating grin he could muster, “What Elsa and I do in the privacy of her chambers is none of your business. You wouldn’t want me asking about you and Kristoff, now would you?”

               Anna’s cheeks blazed with fury, “How…how _dare_ you—ugh, you’re such a _pig_! Don’t you _ever_ touch Elsa again! Why she is dumb enough to fall for your tricks, I’ll never know-”

               “You think your sister dumb?” the god jumped on the word like a dog to a bone, “My my, Anna…this is telling indeed…”

               A long silence fell that consisted mostly of glares sharp enough to cut through leather. Loki found himself silently begging, for whatever reason, that Anna would choose the word he was looking for when she spoke next.

               _Monster. Just say it. You know it’s true. Monster._

               “You killed Mia,” to the god’s dismay, the princess’s eyes started to fill with tears, “You killed Mia, and one day…one day I hope Elsa kills you.”

               Anna spun on her heel and started to walk away, leaving Loki feeling empty and anxious in her wake. The god channeled all his remaining energy into making his voice as soft as possible when he spoke next, barely loud enough for the princess to hear.

               “You may want to be a little kinder to the man bringing the queen her breakfast.”

               Loki watched with zero satisfaction as Anna’s steps faltered slightly, and then continued, resilient as ever, without a glance over her shoulder.

(o0o0o0o0)

               Elsa watched out the tower window sadly, watching snowflakes drift past in a gray blur. After breakfast, she’d lied her way out of leaving Loki. She knew solitude was the last thing she needed right now, but every once in a while, she had no choice but to give into her demons. Sometimes they were all she had.

               From where she sat now, she could see several shingles missing from a nearby rooftop. Most likely the work of the Chitauri that had ravaged her city a day ago. The monsters that _she_ ’ _d_ brought to Arendelle. If only she had been there. If only she hadn’t been so consumed with herself and fairytales and kissing Loki…maybe then Mia would be alive. Mia and the quiet girl from the festival, and _everyone else_. The queen could remember each of their faces like it was nothing. They were engraved into her conscience, and Elsa didn’t think she would ever be able to scrub her mind clean of this stain. Eternal winter was one thing, but this…this was murder.

               The queen leaned her forehead against the frosty glass, closing her eyes and trying to will her heartbeat to slow down. It couldn’t be this healthy to always be this preoccupied. And yet, what was she supposed to do? Anna thought she was a fool in love, blind to responsibilities. She had no parents. Kristoff and she weren’t close enough to talk about this, and Loki…Loki…

               Elsa was afraid of Loki.

               She was afraid of what he did to her. Of the distraction he posed. But that was nothing compared to the idea that he had a hand in the Chitauri’s attack. It was lovely that he was there to comfort her—nothing came close to the feeling of large arms wrapping around her, sympathetic green eyes, and kisses that made her feel like she was glowing, but…kisses wouldn’t bring Mia back. In fact, they’d brought back her nightmare. The queen knew that it wasn’t fair to jump to conclusions, but he’d been avoiding her questions, and doing so had only raised more. The main one being…what if her initial instincts had been right?

               What if Loki _was_ another Hans? What if she should have run, instead of comforting him when he’d said he was a monster? What if—

               “You look like you need a friend.”

               Elsa turned to see Olaf standing in the middle of the darkened, bare room, blinking at her.

               “Olaf,” she breathed, turning towards him, “I never even checked to—did you make it to Arendelle okay? Had things already-”

               The snowman shook his head, waddling towards her, “Doesn’t matter,” he hopped onto her lap, “Are you okay?”

               Before Elsa knew it, she was helplessly weeping, feeling guiltier than ever as Olaf patted her sympathetically, but unable to stop. She poured out her sorrows, hot and salty, for what seemed like hours, and when she finally lifted her head again, the snowman was still there, smiling sadly at her.

               “Do you feel better?” he asked.

               The queen shook her head, still shaking, “Olaf, I—everything’s out of control. And Loki…Loki…”

               “One thing happened that was out of control. That’s not everything.”

               “People died!” Elsa shrieked, frightened by how mad she sounded, “Their everything is gone now, because of me!”

               “Depends on your perspective,” Olaf said quietly, “What’s going on with Loki?”

               “I…I…” Elsa turned away in shame, “I think he had something to do with this. With the Chitauri. More than he’s letting on. I feel like I don’t know anything about him. I thought we were close, but now I feel like he’s…hiding something from me.”

               “He seems to like you a lot.”

               The queen snorted, “It seems that way. But Olaf, what if he’s faking? I can’t know his thoughts, his true feelings!”

               “That’s part of love,” the snowman said in a voice that hurt Elsa’s heart, “Trust.”

               “I need to know more,” she said hoarsely, “I need to know everything about him, but I’m terrified because…what if I don’t like what I see?”

               “Do you love him?”

               Elsa paused, shocked into silence.

               _Did_ she love Loki? It certainly felt that way. But love was giving your life for someone else. It was putting their needs before your own. It was no need for secrets or confessions because…everything was on the table. Nothing mattered because they, in their own sense, were enough on their own.

               Prince Loki was…dashing. More than that, he made her heart do things she had never thought it capable of doing. He complimented her, he teased her, he made her _feel_ loved. He’d confessed deep, dark secrets to her that had clearly tormented him for years, but…

               Now it was starting to feel like he’d kept more secrets than he’d told. And now, ten people were dead, possibly because of it. If he’d made his motives clear from the start, that would have been different, but the fact was, he _hadn’t_. He’d gone from overbearing and inappropriate to soft spoken and eloquent in a matter of days, for no reason other than he’d suddenly seen value in her. Why was that? Which was the real Loki? Who _was_ the prince with the strange magic?

               “Elsa?” Olaf’s voice made her wonder how much time had passed since her last response.

               “I’m going to the library,” she announced abruptly, “Olaf, if you see Loki…tell him I wish not to be disturbed.”

               “Elsa!” the snowman called after her, and the queen paused at the top of the staircase, her eyes question marks.

“You’re very brave.”

               She blushed and nodded, but confidence was something incapable of breaking her shell at the moment.

<br />

               Loki blinked, not believing what he was hearing.

               “She said what-? Why?”

               Olaf stared up at him with a neutral expression, “Elsa said she didn’t want you to bother her in the library.”

               The god’s brow furrowed, but he slowly nodded, wondering what he must’ve done, “Alright,” he turned away from the creature, deciding that some fresh air was needed at this point. He needed to think. Maybe then a solution would come clear to him.

               If there was one.

               The sky was gray above him and filled with clouds. Loki took a deep breath of the crisp air, letting it burn his lungs. He felt nothing. Not the cobblestones clicking underneath his feet or the wind blowing his hair off of his face.

               It felt like when he had fallen off the bifrost. When his fingers had cramped trying to hold onto life, and his throat had hurt from screaming. He’d never screamed at Thor like he had that night. That night he’d lost everything, and all Odin had had to say was, ‘No, Loki.’

               The god clenched his fist, a spark of green igniting in his palm. Odin hadn’t cared. None of them had cared. He was a burden on them. He’d always been. There was no usefulness for him, now. It was all their fault, yet at the same time, it was all _his_ fault.

               The streets of Arendelle were eerily empty, despite it being midday. He couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the silence. The god had always enjoyed time alone or with small groups better than crowds. He didn’t have to shout to be heard that way.

The people were still afraid, then. As they should be. Midgardians were…no match for the Chitauri. Loki felt a spark of pity for them. They had no hope of defending themselves. Not in the slightest.

               Although…the god couldn’t say he wasn’t fearful for Elsa. Losing her, as little time as they’d known one another, would break his heart. If he had one. He found it difficult to extend the emotion of ‘pity’ towards her. It seemed to demeaning. She deserved better than pity. Sympathy, perhaps.

               The god drew a shuddering breath, fighting to maintain his composure. Before the Chitauri had attacked, it was easy for Elsa to act as a sort of therapy for him. But now Midgardians were dead, and she was apparently upset with him. Loki knew she wasn’t stupid. He’d known she was going to find out they were looking for him sooner or later. Why in _Hel_ did this hurt so much?

               _Because you’re desperate._

               This was so _confusing_. He’d killed Midgardians before…what if there were other people like Elsa who had been upset by that? What if she’d been right, and _Asgard_ was the place with the problem?

               _They only live a hundred years at most. Who gives a damn?_

Indeed, who gave a damn. Loki had so little idea what he was supposed to do at this point that he didn’t even care about his own life anymore. It was becoming clear that Elsa had been a passing fancy. It could never have lasted. She would live another twenty years and then die anyway. Who cared? _Not him._

               _I love her._

Snow crunched under his feet, and Loki looked up, startled to find he was surrounded by trees. He’d wandered his way out of the city.

               He ran a hand through his hair as the scent of…pine, Elsa had called it, tickled his nose. He still remembered first landing here like it was yesterday. He’d thought Kristoff mad and Elsa snobbish. How wrong he had been.

The god wrapped his arms around himself, more as a gesture of comfort than for warmth. His hands were trembling. Pathetic.

               A growl made him spin around so quickly he hurt his neck. Standing not two feet in front of him was a Chitauri warrior, in the flesh, extending a hand clenching what looked like a letter, written on stained and damp parchment.

               Startled, Loki stumbled back a few paces, looking the thing up and down. It remained still as stone, emotionless eyes fixed on him.

               All the rage the god had been internalizing the past day was channeled into his voice, “Why are you here?” he demanded, satisfied with how regal his voice sounded.

               Silence.

               Loki took a step forward, eyes blazing, “Did you not _hear me_ , beast?” he hissed, “I demand to know where your master is, and what he wants from me! People have died, and-”

               A strange clicking noise escaped the Chitauri, and it occurred to the god after a moment that the thing was laughing—actually _laughing_ at him. Seven realms, was he _that_ much of a joke across the cosmos, already?

               When he ran through his sentence again in his mind, his mistake was obvious. Sympathy for dead mortals did not make one powerful. It certainly didn’t make an Asgardian king.

               Magic was gathering in Loki’s palms, warm and crackling with energy, but before he had time to consider how best to reclaim his pride, the Chitauri threw the letter at him, shoved him backwards into the snow and ran into the trees. The god heard the whirr of a transport a distance away as he propped himself up on his elbows, groaning.

               He ached for Elsa.

               Though a message was…intriguing. This could very well be his way out of Midgard.

               _But Elsa…_

               Shoving conscience into a corner of his mind for the time being, Loki got up and grabbed the damp letter from the snow.

               He frowned. It was blank.

               He turned it over thrice but noticed nothing; no sign of a hidden message or script. What he did find was a ringing pain in his skull, increasing in pressure and volume until-

               **_Son of Laufey._**

The god started at the voice in his head, dropping the letter faster than if it had caught fire. It felt like someone was speaking _directly_ to his mind, in a voice that boomed like thunder.

               He was reminded, for a moment, of Thor. But this was a voice far more sinister than his brother’s. This was a voice that held power—more than he or Thor could dream of. A voice that was listening to his every thought with amusement-

               _And to whom do I owe the pleasure?_ Loki hastily responded, not wanting to look a fool for this intruder. Anyone who had to invade the mind of another to make conversation was probably not a friend.

_**I am The Other.**_

Loki’s mouth went dry at the name, but he remained composed. Oh, but he’d heard things. Not often. The Other lived in shadow. If Frost Giants were monsters, the Other was…just what the name implied. Other.

               _I have heard tales of your ruthlessness,_ he crooned.

_**Rest assured, they do not do me justice.**_

The god crumpled up the blank paper, trying to think as quickly as possible. As dangerous as this seemed, he couldn’t spend his entire life on Midgard. Loki needed to reclaim his crown. What had he expected? To stay here forever with Elsa?

               Something twisted in his chest. Why…why was it so appealing? A hypothetical life with mortals on Midgard was laughable. He was a king. He should rule them, if anything.

               But…things would be so simple. He wouldn’t have to worry about acceptance here. He could patch things up with Anna; have a little sister. Imagine that. A sister. Elsa would laugh at his tricks and Kristoff would harvest ice…he’d get to see the queen smile every day. Maybe _he_ even would, too.

               Loki licked his lips, feeling sick as his rationale tore the fantasy away from him. He could never have that. He couldn’t run anymore. He had responsibilities and a _crown_ to claim. He needed to prove himself to Odin. Do what he was meant to do.

               _Was the letter enchanted? I’d guess not. Your powers are great enough that you have no need for petty spells._

There was a disturbing pause.

               **_Do not underestimate me, runt._**

The word stung. Loki’s brow furrowed.

               _I am not a fool. Though I must ask why you waited so long to contact me…and what you want._

_**I too have heard tales of you, son of Laufey. I needed to see which were true.**_

**** _Are you master of the Chitauri? You control them?_

_**I am many things.**_

**** _You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?_

_**A more important question is what you want. What does the dishonored son of Odin desire?**_

It was a question Loki hated to think about. The fact of the matter was that he wanted a lot of things. He wanted to be a king. He wanted to be loved by Thor and Odin and Frigga. Treated as an equal. He wanted Elsa to trust him again. To be his queen. He wanted Chitauri to stop attacking Arendelle.

               Some of these things were obviously lower on his priority list.

               _You want a bargain._

               **_No, Frost Giant. You do._**

Loki paused. He was desperate, and the Other knew it.

               _What is your offer?_

_**My master’s offer is a simple one. To leave this stinking mudball and rule as you were born to.**_

He was being flattered, but a more pressing issue was present.

               _Your master?_

_**Thanos the conqueror. I serve him and him alone.**_

Loki found that hard to believe, but officially said nothing.

               _And how do you plan on…accomplishing this?_

_**The Chitauri are a formidable enemy.**_

The god fought an urge to scoff. The Other’s advertising was so obvious it was laughable.

               _Are they truly as formidable as you claim?_

Fury, white hot and striking, seemed to crash over Loki’s mind like a wave. Temper, temper…

               **_Do not question me. You are desperate, runt. And you will take the offer you get and be grateful._**

 _Of course,_ Loki soothed, thinking quickly, _and what must I do to hold up my end of the…bargain?_

_**The Tesseract.**_

Hm. That didn’t sound…too difficult. The god thought of Elsa. How she’d cried when she’d seen the damage the Chitauri had done. How she’d held him. The way her tears had felt, hot and wet, soaking through his shirt. How she’d shook.

               Odin’s face leapt to the forefront of his mind, and Loki made a decision that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

               _You shall have it._

_**Wise choice. It will make conquest easy.**_

**** _Is it done then?_

_**It is done. Thanos will be pleased.**_

**** _How and when am I to leave Midgard?_

_**We will leave in three days time. I trust that will be sufficient to…tie up loose ends.**_

**** _Your insults are trivial at best. Given that we are now working together, I would have to request you stop your warriors from damaging Midgardian settlements._

_**Of course.**_

For a long time, there was silence, and Loki assumed the conversation was over. It was only after he’d already started to walk back, examining the paper the Chitauri had given him, that the Other spoke again.

               **_Fail to bring us the Tesseract, and we will hunt you to the ends of the universe._**

               The god felt slightly sick, but said nothing. It was a long walk back to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I haven’t abandoned this. Updates just take a while because the plot in one of my other stories is picking up. Rest assured, there is one chapter left of this, anyway. Let me know what you think of this new development?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8tracks playlist has been updated with a few extra tracks.

              It was dark before Loki returned to the city. The moon was round and high in the sky as it shined dim light onto the empty streets of Arendelle. It looked to be a ghost town this late at night, though perhaps that had something to do with the Chitauri’s presence, as well.

               The god’s heart hammered in his chest, but his pace was slow. For some reason, he couldn’t force himself to walk any faster towards the castle. Towards Elsa. He was going to leave her. He _had_ to leave her.

               But this was what he wanted, right? He couldn’t stay on Midgard the rest of his life. No, it was good he was finally putting his foot down. The more Loki reminded himself of it, the more it seemed to be true. He deserved to have a throne. Midgardians were inferior.

               Elsa had been so kind, though…

               She’d loved him unconditionally. But was that the sort of attitude a queen held? Of course not! A good queen was ruthless, unforgiving. It was for Elsa’s own good that he was leaving. The queen of Arendelle was meaningless. An ant. She didn’t matter.

               She didn’t matter.

<br />

               When the castle doors creaked shut behind Loki, there wasn’t a soul to be seen in the hallways. Though the god thought he had a hunch as to where one particular person was hiding.

               His footsteps were silent on the palace rugs as he made his way to the library. How strange it was, to be leaving this place forever. In a mere three days. Loki…couldn’t say he wouldn’t miss it a little.

               _A lot._

               But he couldn’t miss it. He had to detach himself and do his duty. Hadn’t that been his struggle throughout life? Hadn’t that been why he’d always been an outcast? A true leader couldn’t waste time on feelings. A true leader cast those aside in favor of cold, harsh justice.

               Justice was something Loki would like to see more of, when he became king.

               _You know you have to talk to Elsa. Be kind to her. You’ll feel better._

The god took a deep breath outside of the library doors, trying to listen to his conscience. He was so torn on what to feel…

               _You love her. You know you do._

_But I CAN’T._

The wood creaked as Loki pushed it open. It was a drawn out, painful noise.

               The god stepped inside silently, carefully shutting the doors behind him. The room was a darkened labyrinth of shelves. It was impossible to tell where Elsa might be hiding.

               A tired sigh worked its way through Loki’s body, “Elsa?” he spoke the words rather than called them.

               No response. He knew she must be here. If not, he supposed he could try her bedroom, but this was the place she’d be less likely to be bothered, and from the way the queen had avoided him after breakfast, the god assumed that had been a priority for Elsa.

               “I know you’re in here,” Loki called gently, taking a few more steps into the room, “I would like to speak with you, if you’d listen.”

               From the corner of his eye, the god saw a head of snowy hair, illuminated by moonlight, emerge from behind a bookcase.  He turned to look at her.

               Elsa was hunched over, a hand on her arm as she always had when she was nervous. Tears swam unshed in her blue eyes as she watched him, and Loki rushed over to her, arms outstretched.

               “Elsa-”

               “Don’t!” the queen suddenly had a dangerous glint in her eye, her hands outstretched towards the god as though she planned to-

               _Oh._ She was threatening to hurt him with her _powers_. So they’d reached that point, had they? Loki bristled slightly at the impudent action.

               The god bit his lip, reminding himself why he’d come there, “Elsa…”

               “No,” her voice had gone icy, “Who _are_ you?” Elsa’s voice cracked on the second word.

               _Oh, no. This could be messy._

Loki looked her straight in the eye, “I am who I’ve told you since I first arrived here.”

               “Prince Loki of Asgard?” tiny snowflakes were fluttering around the queen’s palms, “I looked through the archives and there _is_ no Asgard! Every kingdom in the known world is in those!”

               The god sighed patiently, “You cannot expect to have explored every square inch of your world already, Elsa.”

               Her mouth fell open, “So you’re from a kingdom that has never before shown its face to the known world before?”

               Loki took a cautious step forward, “Elsa, I don’t want to fight. I’m leaving in three days, and-”

               “No! Tell the truth!”

               The god was silent.

               “Please,” Elsa lowered her palms, clearly starting to break down, “Tell the truth, Loki.”

               Had Thor ever told his Midgardian about their world? Loki wished he knew how to say such a thing, but the fact was, he didn’t. Not in the slightest.  No…he would not let their last days together be ruined by something so complicated. He would rather savor the simple love they’d had before. Before he had to leave her forever.

               Quiet as a shadow, the god closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Elsa’s. Hers were flighty, shaking with the rest of her body as fear leaked from her eyes. Tears were warm on Loki’s face, and they coaxed out his own suppressed despair.

               It was starting to hit him. He was leaving Elsa _forever._ Once he became king, he’d hardly be able to carry on an affair with a Midgardian. The lives of mortals were even short enough that she might be dead before he even took the throne. They’d been doomed from the start. This could never have lasted; Loki had known that when he’d gotten into it, but he was quickly starting to realize that what had once been intended as a casual affair had made quite an imprint on his heart. Wasn’t that how these things always went? No matter what his intention; a one night stand or an indefinite commitment, emotion snaked its way into things.

               Emotion. All it did was hurt. Loki had been so, so hurt by everyone. And now, he had Elsa. Elsa who was so much _more_ than her mere status as a mortal. She was just as kind to him as Frigga, and that was saying something. They were two of a kind; separate from the rest who’d belittled him, who’d bullied him. The queen of Arendelle hadn’t even done so out of _pity._ She’d done it because she _wanted to._ Because she genuinely liked him. How was it that the least worthy person possible showed herself to be so _godly?_

               _Because she doesn’t know better._

               That may have been true, but Loki didn’t care. Three days…he had three days to make things up to Elsa. To show her how it felt to rule alongside him. To give her the treatment she deserved.

               She was _his queen._

               The god and his love, pressed together and more still now, were illuminated by a brief glow of green in the darkened library. As though he was handling glass, Loki moved the queen’s fingers apart, pressing a single, perfect Black Ice flower into her hand. He brought his own palms, ever so slowly, up to her shoulders as their faces broke contact. Green eyes met blue.

               “I love you,” Loki murmured, not looking away, “And that’s what matters. You need not worry about Asgard, or where it is.”

               Elsa’s voice was barely a whisper, “Why are you leaving?” her hands were small on the god’s arms, completing their embrace.

               Loki studied the queen’s collarbone, “A prince has…” his voice was hoarse, “a duty to his kingdom.” He met her eyes again.

               “You’re never going to give me a straight answer, are you?” the queen’s voice was like music to him, just as the way she slightly quirked an eyebrow was art.

               The god smiled sadly, his heart physically hurting from the gesture. It stopped breath in his throat and made swallowing painful. He blinked back a few tears.

               “I’m afraid not.”

               Suddenly, there were arms wrapped around Loki, squeezing him harder than he’d ever been squeezed in his life, even by Thor. He was just as caught off guard as if she’d stripped off her clothing and jumped on top of him.

               This was…better.

               “I love you too, Loki,” Elsa was crying again, warming his shoulder, “I do. I know I’ve been…it doesn’t matter. I want to forgive you. Just…promise that you’ll visit after you leave, okay? Promise me?”

               The god’s smile faded, and he was happy the queen couldn’t see him as a stray tear leaked free. Finally, he returned the hug.

               “I promise,” Loki lied.

               After what was surely minutes, but felt like seconds, they broke apart. There was fire in Elsa’s eyes.

               “Let’s go out for a ride,” she suggested feverently. The flower was still clutched in her delicate fingers.

               “I’m not sure that’s a good i-”

               “It’s a beautiful night,” there was a challenge in the queen’s eyes as she started away from him, “Is Prince Loki of Asgard fearful of a nighttime horseback ride?”

               Loki laughed breathily, not believing how rash she was behaving, “Elsa, there could be Chitauri-”

               “So?” with a smirk, Elsa swung her arm out in a grand gesture, sending a wicked looking wall of ice spears across the floor next to him.

               Oh, this was foolish. This was _stupid._

               _Mischief._

And, if there was one thing Loki couldn’t resist, it was a little bit of mischief.

(o0o0o0o0o0)

               Snow flew up like powder beneath the hooves of Loki and Elsa’s horses as they flew across the landscape. Their capes fluttered behind them in the midnight air, emerald and purple, and icy air burned their throats. Tiny needles of white had started to float down from the heavens just after they’d left the castle, and they encrusted both companions’ windswept hair, right down to their eyelashes.

               “Ha!” the god was delirious with the chase, “Catch me if you can, my queen!”

               He gave his mount a wicked kick, and with a whinny of complaint, he was gaining ground on Elsa again.

               “No you don’t!” the queen laughed, and, eyes glinting with determination, started whipping up the snow around Loki, arm outstretched as she galloped towards his now confused and stationary horse. The god tried to calm the beast, patting its mane as it turned circles in Elsa’s handcrafted storm. Finally, the queen of Arendelle caught up, engulfing herself in the small blizzard. Her and Loki’s eyes met a moment before she dropped the spell; all the airborne snow falling to the ground around them with a feather light thump. The god finally managed to calm his horse; perhaps it was because he was looking at Elsa.

               “You caught me,” Loki smirked, steering closer to her. His hair was chaos, but the world around them seemed to have gone strangely still, save for the falling snow around them. The universe was quiet until Elsa spoke.

               “Do you remember our first kiss?” she asked, tears in her eyes, despite her sad smile. The queen nodded at the god’s horse as a reminder.

               Loki grinned, transforming his entire face in one of those few, few genuine smiles he offered; nothing held back, “How could I not?”

               Elsa leaned in, a smirk quirking a corner of her mouth upwards, “Would you like a repeat?”

               The god’s breath ghosted across her lips, “Only if it does not include falling, this time.”

               “Of course…” the queen’s voice was a feather, and in no time at all, Loki and Elsa were mirroring their first kiss, on irritable horses in the center of a snowy forest. The only difference was, instead of an accidental fall, the queen, a few moments into the kiss, gave Loki a powerful shove, sending them both tumbling to the ground, the god providing a cushion for Elsa’s fall.

               Loki raised an eyebrow at the queen laughing above him.

               “It had to be exact,” she smiled, and the god was just drawing her down into another kiss when the horses started, hooves kicking up sprays of snow as they galloped away.

               Loki sat up so quickly he and Elsa bumped noses.

               “Wait-!” the queen called after the animals uselessly, her voice fading before it even reached full volume.

               “Elsa…” the god’s eyes widened as he took in their surroundings.

               “Wha-?”

               Elsa fell silent, seeing what both she and Loki hadn’t before. The falling snow had obscured it from their view, but along the treeline a series of humanoid shapes were standing, still as statues. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that there were indeed figures behind them, as well, enclosing them in a circle.

               They’d walked into a trap.

               Or…had they? The queen hardly dared to believe Loki had anything to do with this, and yet, the thought nagged at the corners of her mind. Everyone else seemed to think he’d had something to do with the deaths in Arendelle, and she couldn’t say it was an irrational theory…

               “Loki…?” Elsa’s forehead scrunched, “Are they…?”

               “They’re waiting for an order,” he answered, face gone nearly completely blank, “Get behind me,” he commanded, standing up and brushing snow off himself. The queen was slightly irritated by the demand.

               _This is his doing,_ a voice whispered to Elsa from the corner of her mind.

               “I meant,” she growled, “Are they Chitauri?” Loki answered with a silent nod and a straightening of his back.

               “Loki,” Elsa squeezed his arm, terrified in spite of herself, “Did you…?”

               “Hush,” the god’s voice was clipped as he continued to stare straight ahead, twisting the queen’s stomach.

               Elsa’s heartbeat thrummed in her ears, but she stepped out from behind Loki, taking her place beside him. Just as she did this, a figure stepped out from behind the wall of monsters around them, starting to make its way forward. There were two Chitauri at its sides, in a structured formation Elsa had never seen from them before.

               “What are you doing?” Loki hissed, “Get behind me!”

               “No,” the queen willed her voice not to tremble, “I want to meet them with you.”

               “You don’t understand!” the god was starting to panic, “They will kill you. You are nothing to them-”

               “Then we’ll fight them.”

               “Are you mad? There is no fighting-”

               **“Son of Laufey.”**

               Loki’s head snapped towards the Other, who was now closing the distance between their two parties. His voice seemed to echo—it was overwhelmingly loud. The god heard it not only through his ears but inside of his mind, as well.

Elsa stood proudly, but he could tell she was shaking. The Midgardian queen knew she was in over her head, and it made Loki feel sick. This was happening too quickly. If he’d had a true bargain with the Other, there wouldn’t be a ring of Chitauri surrounding him. They were prepared for _resistance,_ but why? Something was terribly, terribly wrong. He was supposed to have had time to do this gently…

               **“You _have_ been busy…what would the Allfather think?”**

The god turned on his charm like a switch, praying that Elsa would play along, though he knew deep down it was an impossible wish.

               “Odin’s opinions matter nothing to me,” he took a step forward, “Or haven’t you noticed?”

               **“Courting a Midgardian bitch,”** an unearthly chuckle rattled the forest, **“is a new low for you, runt.”**

“ _Excuse_ me?” Elsa was indignant, “I am a queen, and I will not be-!”

               Within seconds, she was in the hands of two Chitauri, struggling and shrieking until one of them clasped a hand roughly around her throat.

               “Let the Midgardian go,” Loki’s request was calm, though his eyes were on fire, “She has no business in this.”

               The Other laughed, though Elsa was released. She dropped to the ground, gasping and choking. Loki flinched at the noise, but didn’t so much as look over his shoulder at her. He had to stay strong, and prove he was formidable. In what sort of bargain was one party so rude?

               _A one sided deal._

               “Loki?” Elsa asked, and after receiving no response, snapped, “LOOK AT ME!”

               The god obeyed, though his eyes were far too filled with pity for her taste. Those monsters had attacked her and he’d just _stood_ there. What had gotten into Loki?

               Teeth bared in a snarl, the queen sneered her question, “Do you know these creatures?”

               **“ _Know?_ ”** the Other grinned at Loki, who fought to keep a blank expression, **“The Frost Giant runt made a _bargain_ , sweet mortal. He belongs to Thanos, until he holds up his end of the deal.”**

“Mortal?” Elsa’s voice was losing its edge quickly, “Loki, what is he talking about?”

               This was it. The end. She was going to know. Loki felt like he was falling off the Bifrost all over again. Slowly, painfully, he was drifting away from the love he and the queen had shared. He was furious and devastated at the same time. The Other would taunt him; drag this out. Better to tell Elsa the truth now. The less the Other saw of his attachment to her, the less he would be tempted to hurt her.

               Feeling chilled to the bone and slightly sick to his stomach, the god forced his face into one of marble, draining all warmth from his gaze and hardening his heart.

“Elsa, I have deceived you,” he announced, feeling the Other’s eyes on his back, “I am Loki Laufeyson, of Asgard.”

               “What?” Elsa was frightened by the man standing in Loki’s place. She was starting to see the crook from the ball surfacing again. Suddenly, he seemed much larger, standing over her. “Is what he says true?”

               “I am not,” his gaze was even, but seemed to freeze the oxygen in her lungs all the same, “of your world. I am what you would call a god. And a king, at that.”

               The Other laughed, **“You are no king! Just as you are no Asgardian! You are a Frost Giant runt! Cast out to die on a frozen rock! Lowly trickster and apparently available at a mortal woman’s beck and call, you are lucky you have your wits. One would barely call you above a Midgardian.”**

               “I am not available at her beck and call,” Loki spun on his heel to face his attacker, “Nor am I at yours. I thought we’d agreed on three days to tie up loose ends.”

               **“Time passes quickly when Thanos is impatient. My master has no time for your petty problems. Or your Midgardian whores.”**

The god ground his teeth, knuckles whitening, “Breaking a deal not even twenty four hours in is not helping my motivation to find you your precious Tesseract.”

               “Tesseract? Deal?” Elsa cried, getting up from the snow, “What _deal_?”

               Loki turned to face the queen, and her stomach dropped when she saw his expression. His _eyes…_ how had they ever seemed warm to her? Now that had been replaced by a flinty green, dangerous and predatory.

               _“I am what you would call a god.”_

Was she arguing with a deity? What kind of creature _was_ Loki? He had _kissed_ her….

               “Elsa, make no mistake,” he seemed to notice her expression, and a few of the harder lines in his face softened, “I love you. That is all you need to-”

               “Why did you come here?” a few tears escaped the queen, to her dismay, though her voice was rough and hoarse, “Tell me the truth!”

               “I am a king! You will not speak to me in such a way!” Loki shouted back.

               **“ENOUGH!”**

               Elsa gasped; a horrible, rattling thing that ripped through her chest, as Loki was knocked down to the snow, sliding several feet away from the impact. The Chitauri snickered, and it suddenly became evident to the queen that the circle around them was growing tighter.

               This wasn’t happening. This was a nightmare. It _had_ to be.

               A Chitauri gave Loki a vicious kick to the gut, and Elsa squeaked, covering her mouth. He propped himself up on an elbow, sneering. A few more Chitauri came forward to grab the Asgardian, holding him still for the Other.

               **“You will not,”** the queen was shocked to see fear—actual _fear_ , dance behind Loki’s eyes as the Other approached him, **“Speak to me in that manner again. I see we will need to work on your obedience before you are permitted to work for Thanos.”**

“An Asgardian shows ‘obedience’ to no one,” Loki spat.

               **“Then it is good you,”** the Other crooned, **“are not an Asgardian.”**

“L…Loki…” Elsa approached the captive god, knees trembling. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart was beating far too quickly but she had to know…she had to know the truth. “What does he mean?”

               The look Loki gave Elsa then was the saddest she’d ever seen on another person’s face before. It felt like it sucked all the hope out of her, like someone was squeezing her heart, but this disappeared as quickly as a ghost, only to be replaced with something far, far worse.

               The Asgardian violently shrugged himself out of his captor’s arms, and Elsa was shocked to see that the Other allowed him to. She flinched back as Loki marched towards her, and a few nervous sparks of ice cooled her palms.

               “Listen to me,” Loki grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, hands like stone, “I am a _god_. Not only a god, but a _royal_ one. I am the man you and your sister pray to at night to wish your petty ailments away. By the way, that doesn’t work. No one _listens._ We have better things to do than to help mortals with their problems. Such as: defending the realm from Frost Giants! You _do_ remember those, don’t you? The monsters from the story? Well, truth be told, Elsa my dear, I AM ONE!” he shoved her away with such force that she fell backwards, numb into the snow, before he continued his tirade, pacing like a madman in front of her, “That’s right!” he spat, “Your precious _prince_ is a Frost Giant. I am the monster your sister tried to warn you about, and, if you don’t believe me…”

               Elsa could only watch in horror as Loki’s arm started to turn blue, then his face, then his entire body. Runic patterns traced themselves onto his skin, and his eyes changed from light green to a deep, bloody scarlet.

               Just like her dream.         

               “Yes,” he hissed down at her, and she unconsciously scrambled back from the monstrous god, “I can see your fear. Wise girl. You and my father would get along well. _This_ ,” he spread his arms wide, “Is why I have no throne. _This_ is why I fell off the Bifrost and crash landed in your quaint little village. I am a _monster_!” though Loki was fading back to his normal skin tone, he still looked completely deranged; pupils dilated and hair sticking out in sharp spikes.

               Elsa sobbed, shaking her head. This was a nightmare. This was a nightmare. She would wake up in Loki’s arms and he would tell her about his brother with the golden hair and his mother who played magic tricks and his strict father. This couldn’t be him speaking, and yet…

               It was.

               “I loved you,” she croaked. Breathing was slightly difficult at the moment.

               Loki could feel himself breaking, ripping apart from the inside out as he watched Elsa cry. Now that he’d told her everything, nothing was left but emptiness. There was nothing left of his heart but a hole. Strange, that secrets had been what tied him to Elsa. Perhaps that was what allowed him to be close to anyone. Secrets and lies.

               _You’re a monster._

_A useless monster._

_Always have been._

_Worthless._

_Prove yourself. Show yourself to be a god._

_She’s a useless mortal. Too stupid to matter._

_Odin was right. His teachings were right. They just aren’t what you wanted to hear._

_You’re disgusting._

               “I NEVER LOVED YOU!” the god felt a physical pain in his chest as everything came crashing back down. Reality pulled tears into his eyes and rage into his voice as he sealed the deal with some of the cruelest words to ever leave his lips:

 “You stupid, Midgardian, _bitch!_ ”

“NO!” Elsa swayed on her feet as she got up from the snow, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at the empty creature that was once Prince Loki of Asgard, “You weren’t lying! A person cannot lie so much!”

“I can,” Loki’s voice had gone dangerously quiet, “I LIE! It’s what I do. I am the God of Mischief, and I care nothing for a Midgardian queen of an insignificant province in a primitive land.”

Elsa couldn’t breathe. Her sobs were closer to dry heaves now, though it was not simply sorrow causing her bones to shake. Anger had a hand in it, as well. She had been stupid. Her initial instincts had been right. It didn’t matter what the nature of the deal Loki had made was. She didn’t care. People were dead because of this man. This man who she’d trusted despite what everyone who loved her had said.  This man who apparently did not love her at all. This man who’d taken her for a fool, and been correct. This man who wasn’t a man at all.

**“And now that that is through with…”**

Loki grunted in pain, a deceivingly human noise, as he was sent to his knees by a rough blow to the gut by a Chitauri. He started to summon magic, reflecting green across the nearby snow, but it was no match for the monsters that descended on him. Elsa heard a horrible snap followed by a scream of anguish, and when the Asgardian was thrown to the ground next, he struggled to get up.

 **“You are nothing,”** the Other slowly stepped forward, back ramrod straight, **“You are no king. No one cares for you, Loki Laufeyson. You were born to die.”**

Managing a snarl, Loki was dragged to face the Other by his hair, looking rather pale. Red stained the snow underneath him, dripping slowly from his apparently broken arm.

 **“And this,”** the Other lulled, **“Cannot be changed. But, you can make people forget.”**

Loki was shaking as much as Elsa was completely frozen.

 **“ _If,_ ” **the Other emphasized the word, **“you find the Tesseract. And it is clear, runt,”** he leaned uncomfortably close to his captive, **“That there is much work to be done on _you_ , before that begins.”**

The next few moments Elsa wasn’t extremely aware of. She remembered a loud noise. Something very large in the sky. A lot of light; brighter than the sun. All that mattered to her was that, after this took place, Loki, the Chitauri, and their monstrous commander, were all gone, leaving nothing more than footprints in the snow.

The queen wasn’t sure how long she stood there, the snow falling quietly around her, freezing cold. Eventually, she simply couldn’t stand anymore, and fell to her knees, face in her hands as quiet sobs wracked her body.

  1. He was _gone._



“Anna!” Elsa howled the name of the only person she could think of, “Anna! ANNA!”

Nothing but an echo answered her call. Of course, Anna was safe in bed at the castle. The queen knew it was going to take her hours to walk back without a horse. Hopefully the Chitauri hadn’t caught them when they’d spooked.

Chitauri. Gods. Frost Giants.

It was real. She’d…she’d kissed a god. No, she’d kissed a monster. A monster who didn’t care about her; who’d only cared about passing the time until something important came up.

Elsa was tired. So very, very tired. The thought of ever having to do anything again, to move from this place in the snow, was an impossible one.

Unable to stand, she crawled over, seized by a sudden desperation, to where Loki had stood. His bootprints were still there. Oh, gods, if only she could smell him one more time. Kiss him one more time before he left, she would have been fine.

His blood was still spattered on the snow a little to her right. It would become invisible in a day or so, when a fresh layer of snow covered it, then disappear completely when the spring came.

Elsa cried over this small piece of him for a moment more. It was getting to a point where she wasn’t sure why she was weeping anymore. There seemed so many reasons to cry. For Mia. For anger. For injustice. For unnamed victims. For the family she’d never get to meet. For lies. For lost love.

Suddenly, a vivid flashback struck the queen. Cool hands pressing a flower into hers in a darkened library. Her favorite flower. She’d carried it with them riding. Was it still here?

Frantically, Elsa jumped to her feet, so quickly that it made her dizzy. She searched the snow thoroughly, retracing her every step since she and Loki had ridden out, digging far deeper into snowbanks than it ever could have fallen, and walking several meters beyond where they’d ever set foot. It was starting to get lighter when she abandoned the search. There was no sign of the bloom anywhere.

Loki had created that from his magic. When he’d…departed, it must have left with him.

Elsa sobbed, her voice echoing off the mountains. It was time to go home to Arendelle. The queen gathered herself, knees shaking, and began the long walk back.

(o0o0o0o0)

**Unknown Location- One week later**

Loki grunted, writhing on the harsh, metallic floor. He was _burning._ He was _roasting alive._

Somewhere, he was aware of muffled speaking, before a familiar click. They were turning the temperature up again.

The god rolled over and over, tossing and turning and arching his back, _anything_ to get away from this blistering heat. He gritted his teeth, aware that the stickiness everywhere was his own blood, though he’d long ago learned to keep his eyes shut. The heat hurt them. It hurt _everything._

Another click. This time, he wasn’t able to stop from crying out. He wouldn’t beg. He couldn’t.

They were enjoying this. He knew they were. They liked to see him in pain. Odin probably would. Thor too. They should have been invited.

“You hear that, Odin?” Loki’s throat was raw and sore from lack of fluids, but he screamed all the same, “ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? ARE YOU PROUD OF YOUR _SON_? LOOK AT ME!”

Click. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in Loki’s chest. It echoed off the walls, reflecting his own delusions back at him. The thought that he could ever have become king without Thanos’s help. The thought that he’d ever had a chance at being Thor’s equal. Ha!

Click. The blood that had dried on him was itching, but if he acknowledged that, he’d only feel worse. The god groaned loudly, no longer caring about pride. He’d lost that on Day Three.

The heat became unbearable at the next click. His skin was blistering; burning like he was roasting over a pit. Loki’s ears hurt from his own screams echoing off the walls.

Click. He wanted to weep, but it was too hot.

“FRIGGA!” he twisted, hating himself, “THOR! SIF! FANDRAL! ELSA! HELP ME!”

Except they would never help him. They couldn’t. He was a monster now. He always had been destined to become one. It was with this thought that Loki spent the next few months of his time, and by the end of it, the image of the Midgardian Snow Queen had all but faded completely from his mind.

(o0o0o0o0o0)

Anna watched Arendelle over the railing. This balcony always had been her favorite. There was a perfect view of the sea from here, with a nice framework of mountains alongside it. Not to mention, she could see the main square.

Hesitant, quiet footsteps behind her snapped the princess out of her thoughts.

“Anna?”

The redhead sighed in relief, turning to face her sister, who was looking at her shyly. Elsa hadn’t spoken much since the night Loki had abandoned her, and Anna always grew worried when she was being secretive.

“Elsa,” she grinned, pulling the queen into a hug. The sun warmed her back and reflected off of the elder sister’s hair. “I was starting to think I’d have no one to ice skate with before spring comes.”

Weak laughter shook Elsa slightly, and when they broke apart, the queen was smiling, “How could I do that to you?”

Anna shrugged, “I don’t know. Too heartbroken over that jerk what’s-his-face?”

Elsa’s smile was controlled as she leaned on the railing next to her sister, “Anna…I want to remember.”

The redhead frowned, surprised that anyone could miss such a horrible person, “Why?”

“I just…” the queen shook her head, watching the villagers moving underneath them, “I can’t explain it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anna offered, watching her sister.

“I…” Elsa huffed, “I don’t think so. He was just…”

Just what? Different? Arrogant? Handsome? There were a lot of words that could fill that blank.

“He was just another Hans.”

Neither spoke for a long time. The setting sun illuminated their faces pink with the sky, and Elsa, at one point, started to smile. A beautiful, slow smile that was reminiscent of a much younger girl that liked to play in the snow.

When Anna noticed this, she quirked an eyebrow, “What are you grinning at?”

Elsa giggled, “Would you like to go raid the kitchens?”

Anna’s grin lit the balcony more than the sun could ever have, “Thought you’d never ask!” she clapped her sister on the shoulder, “Come on, I think the cooks have been preparing for this ever since you got back a few days ago.”

The queen giggled, following her sister. Not a thought more of the prince in green crossed her mind as she leapt down the stairs, despite the fact that somewhere, across the cosmos, he was screaming her name.

                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank you all for sticking with me while I wrote this. It’s way out of my comfort zone—so this has definitely been a challenge, but I’ve enjoyed it more than I ever thought I would have. Thank you all for every review you’ve left, for all your favorites and encouragement. None of this would be possible if people weren’t around to read my work. So thank you. I hope you’ve enjoyed all the way to the bitter end, and I’ll hopefully see you around. Ciao.


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